Hermione Granger and the Sleepless Nights
by I'm Just Drawn That Way
Summary: A coming-of-age tale, in which the brightest witch of her age learns about sex & love from excellent teachers. A Gryffindor for a reason: Hermione is nothing if not daring... SBRLHG/FWGWHG/HGLL/hints of HGSS. Slash, het, & femmeslash, sometimes graphic.
1. Chapter 1: Warm Milk

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 1: Warm Milk

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"Warm milk," Hermione muttered. Although her bed was warm, and the rest of Grimmauld Place was very cold, Hermione recognized that she needed her mother's favorite insomnia remedy, and that meant a trip down to the kitchen. A pang of sorrow struck her at the thought of her mother. Hermione was supposed to be on a ski trip with her parents, and had chosen instead to come to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix to be with her friends. They were all unnerved by the snake attack on Arthur Weasley, though, thankfully, the staff at St. Mungo's was predicting he would make a full recovery. Hermione didn't love skiing, but she did love her parents very much, and perhaps missing them during the holidays, plus the weirdness of that attack on Mr. Weasley, kept her from sleeping very well since she'd arrived here a few days ago.

If only she were 17 years old and could apparate, like Fred and George (who had been apparating everywhere as if they had no feet for walking anymore), she wouldn't have to walk down those chilly staircases. Oh well. For the next several months, walking would just have to do – even when she wanted warm milk at 2:00 am on a cold night. She pulled on a pair of warm, wooly socks, and slipped her snuggly blue chenille bathrobe over her nightgown, as she moved quietly to the hallway so as not to wake her roommate. She was probably being quieter than was necessary: Ginny slept like a rock, Hermione reflected, a little enviously.

"Lumos," Hermione whispered, and used her wandlight to guide her. As she passed the mounted heads of Kreacher's ancestors, she grimaced. With the light from her wand throwing their features into sharp relief, the house-elf heads looked more grotesque than ever, despite the Father Christmas hats and beards Sirius had put on them in a fit of holiday spirit. Out of habit, she tiptoed past the portrait of Sirius's mum. In her soft socks, Hermione wasn't making any noise, but she certainly didn't want to risk having that mad old bat alerting everyone that she was out of bed. Just because Hermione was still awake, didn't mean the rest of the residents and holiday guests shouldn't be able to get some sleep.

As Hermione rounded the corner, she saw a faint golden glow coming from around the kitchen door, which stood very slightly ajar. She rejoiced at the thought of the fire's embers, which must still be glowing in the hearth. At least the kitchen would be warmer than the icy halls. She extinguished her wand and stowed it in the pocket of her bathrobe, but just as she was about to push open the kitchen door, she heard voices. She froze in mid-step, not really wanting to run into anyone and get caught in conversation that would keep her awake even later. She drew back her hand, and instead peeked through the crack in the door to see two figures: one seated by the fireplace, and the other standing behind the chair. The fire had been rekindled, and was casting flickering shadows on the walls and ceiling.

"Ah, Sirius, thank you. You give the best shoulder rubs," she heard Professor Lupin's voice sighing.

"I know, Moony. You always say that. Now if you need anything else rubbed while I'm at it, you just let me know," Sirius teased.

"Come on, Sirius, be serious. This is not the place for that kind of behavior."

"I choose to ignore your overused bad pun, as well as your implication that my kitchen can't be sexy." Sirius Black leaned over the back of the chair, and kissed Professor Lupin on the temple, and blew gently in his ear.

"Really, Sirius," Lupin protested softly, "What if someone comes in? Just get back to that shoulder rub, will you? I'm stiff from traveling all day."

"Just the way I like you, Moony," crooned Sirius, now trailing kisses down Lupin's neck. Lupin moaned quietly, and Hermione, her right eye glued to the crack, could tell that Sirius was sure to get his way.

She knew she should turn around, creep back to her room, and just do without her warm milk. But she also knew there was no way she would be able to sleep after what she was witnessing. Sirius and Professor Lupin! Together? Well, of course, now that she thought about it, it made perfect sense. The way they had greeted each other that night in the Shrieking Shack during her third year – it was clear now, in retrospect, that their relationship was more intimate than just close friendship. Bit of a shame, really, that two such sexy men should be taken out of the dating pool all at once. But she did have to admit they made a very attractive couple.

Watching Sirius nibble Lupin's neck and earlobes, Hermione found it was a tough call who she's rather be at that moment. Sirius, getting to kiss, lick, and suck on Professor Lupin's long, lovely neck? Or Remus (she had to stop thinking of him as Professor Lupin, if she was going to entertain these kinds of thoughts), being teased so expertly by the devilish – and devilishly handsome – Sirius Black? Hermione also realized that her imagination wasn't the only part of her responding to the scene unfolding in the kitchen. Her heart was thumping so that she was almost afraid the lovers would hear it and discover her. She had completely forgotten about the chill of the hallway. Her hands – and knickers, too – felt warm and slightly damp.

Sirius had come around to the front of the chair and was leaning over Remus, both of his hands covering Remus's hands on the arms of the chair, and his lips covering Remus's lips in a deep, tender kiss. When he finally broke the kiss, Sirius moved down to Remus's open collar, kissing the collar bones, while one hand moved to the remaining buttons on his lover's shirt. "Come on, Moony," he whispered between kisses, "everyone's asleep. It's the middle of the night. No one from the Order will be coming through before dawn. It's just you and me, and I'm so glad you made it home before Christmas day." Having licked and sucked a path all the way down his torso, Sirius came down to his knees between Remus's legs, and ran his hands hungrily across his flat belly while doing his best to undo his belt with his teeth.

The werewolf's only response was a soft moan. Remus appeared to have given in completely, as both Hermione and Sirius had known he would. He ran his fingers through Sirius's long, black hair, and let his own head drop back in surrender, a wide smile easing across his tired features. His eyes were closed, all his attention on the feel of Sirius's hands on his body, Sirius's hair between his fingers, and Sirius's tugs on his trousers.

Hermione breathed deeply to steady herself as she took in the scars laced in white across Remus's lean and muscular torso. His chest, golden in the firelight, rose and fell as his breath came more quickly. His nipples were wet from Sirius's kisses, and they glistened in the light of the dancing flames. Of course he would be scarred, having turned into a wolf every month for decades. Hermione wished she could trace those lines with her fingers, or maybe her tongue, and make him glad they were there.

Sirius had managed the belt with his teeth. (Hermione made a mental note: must try that technique sometime!) He tried valiantly to undo the trousers with his mouth as well, while one hand still grazed Remus's belly, tracing the line of hair that started at his navel and headed south, and the other toyed with a nipple. After a minute, Sirius gave in, and used his hands to manage the button and zipper. Moments later, he had freed Remus's erection and was nuzzling it playfully.

Hermione swallowed hard. Were all men that big, or was that a side effect of being a werewolf? After all, there ought to be some compensations for the hardships she knew he had endured since he was bitten as a child.

"Please, Padfoot," Remus begged, and Hermione noted the change to Sirius's nickname. That was all the invitation Sirius needed. He put his lips on the engorged tip, and slowly took the entire length into his mouth. Remus arched his back and growled, "Oh, sweet Merlin, YES!"

Hermione watched, entranced, as unable to move as if someone had cast an Incarcerous spell upon her. Every time Sirius slid his mouth, now accompanied by his right hand, all the way down Remus's member, she felt an almost electric zing from her hot and wet core up to her now erect nipples. Sweet Merlin indeed – she and Viktor had kissed last year, and it had felt sexy and exciting at the time, but these sensations were entirely of a different order. And so much better than anything she'd managed to achieve on her own in her four poster at school, despite her best efforts.

When Remus came, he came hard. One hand clutched in Sirius's hair, and the other gripping the arm of the chair, his body rocked as the sweet relief of orgasm pulsed into Sirius's mouth. He made a sound that didn't seem to Hermione to be human anymore, as though he'd been taken to some deep primordial place in his being. The sound somehow took her knees out of commission, and she stumbled a little. Unfortunately, she knocked into the kitchen door, which swung inward a few inches. Both men's heads spun toward her, and her eyes locked with Remus's.

Sirius and Remus were stunned into frozen silence, but Hermione gasped and suddenly found her leg muscles again. She bolted from the kitchen back up the stairs to her room, shucked off her bathrobe and her knickers, and dove under the covers. She reached one hand under her nightgown to find herself soaking wet and more slippery than she had thought possible. She plunged in a finger, then brought it to her mouth to taste the salty sweetness. Still sucking her finger, she began to stroke herself firmly and rhythmically with the other hand, while images raced through her mind. Remus's golden chest heaving. Sirius's tousled hair and swollen lips. Remus's impossibly thick erection. Sirius's tongue on Remus's collarbones. Remus's eyes locked on her own… And like Remus, Hermione came hard, sobbing with pleasure.

Ginny, bless her Weasley genes, slumbered on, oblivious to the tidal wave of sensation that had crashed over her friend. Hermione lay back on her pillow, exhausted from the intensity of the past hour. Ah yes, she thought to herself as sleep finally claimed her: orgasm – more effective than warm milk, apparently, and tons more fun.

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A/N: Well, I started this story off with a bang, eh? Told you it needed the M rating. Reviews? How do you like it so far? 


	2. Chapter 2: Textbooks

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 2: Textbooks

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Hermione slept soundly the rest of the night, and woke up later than usual. She took a long shower, partly to be sure that both Remus and Sirius had vacated the kitchen before she came downstairs for breakfast, and partly because the images of the two men together kept replaying themselves in her mind, causing her to lose track of what she was doing. Oh well. So she'd be a little extra clean today. Maybe it would make up for the dirty mind she suddenly seemed to have developed. She dried off, selected a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt that she thought hugged her breasts nicely, and put her hair up in a French braid, merely because it was the most time-consuming hairstyle she could manage.

When she finally became too hungry to wait any longer, she found the kitchen empty except for Mrs. Weasley. Phew! Hermione gratefully accepted the mug of hot coffee Mrs. Weasley put into her hands, and sat down at the table.

"Well, you look lovely this morning, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. Hermione thought she sounded somehow suspicious, but maybe she was just being paranoid. "I'd been worried you might be feeling under the weather today, as you are usually down to breakfast quite a bit earlier than this. Even Ron is done eating, and you know he likes to sleep in AND take his time over a meal! But you look well… Are you feeling all right, dear?"

Dear, sweet Molly, thought Hermione… Physically, I'm better than all right. Emotionally, however, I'm a bit out of sorts. You see, these two gorgeous older men that I've fancied for a couple of years apparently have a thing for each other, which, while it's hot and all, does mean that neither of them is likely to be much interested in me, even now that I am almost an adult and have the tits, finally, to prove it. And mentally, I think I'm cracking up, because I can't seem to focus on anything properly, unless it has to do with sex. "I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley," she said instead. "Just needed to catch up on my sleep a bit. Thanks for asking." Hermione gave her best effort at a smile, and stabbed a pancake off the platter Mrs. Weasley offered her.

"Oh, Hermione, dear, I almost forgot," Mrs. Weasley said, putting down the platter, and pulling a musty-looking book off the counter behind her. "Remus asked me to see that you got this. He says he found it in the library here, and thought it might be of interest to you."

It was a textbook of ancient runes. Definitely, she was interested in ancient runes, but it was a bit odd of him, wasn't it, to offer her this book from the Black family library the morning after… erm… Well, let's just call it the morning after, and leave it at that. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she smiled, "I'll be sure to look through it after breakfast."

Having no desire to run into Sirius or Remus, or anyone else, for that matter, Hermione spent most of the day in the library, poring over the old book. The Weasleys and Harry were all busy helping Sirius with the Christmas decorations. Occasionally, one of her schoolmates would pop into the library and ask if she wanted to join them, but she found that if she started raving over how exciting she found ancient runes, they quickly left her alone. She was, therefore, for most of the day, left blissfully alone with her thoughts, and the puzzling, musty book of runes.

It was much older than her ancient runes textbook from school, but so far it contained largely the same information, though in a slightly different order of presentation. Hermione loved a good puzzle, and was determined to figure out what Remus wanted her to get from this book. She knew the book must somehow be linked to her witnessing his late-night tryst with Sirius, but she just couldn't find the connection. It didn't help that whenever she tried to imagine what Remus was thinking when he selected this book for her, her mind would flood with images of his golden chest, the smile that had spread across his face, the intensity in his eyes when they had met hers…

By suppertime, Hermione's body was cramped from being curled up in a chair all day, and runes were swimming past her weary eyes. This was getting annoying, actually. If Remus had something to say to her, why didn't he just say it, instead of toying with her like this? She flipped another tattered old page with perhaps more force than was needed, and a new-looking piece of parchment fluttered out of the book. She turned the parchment over to find a message written in runes, in somewhat smudged ink. All annoyance gone, Hermione now paged through the book faster as she translated the message Remus had delivered to her through the unwitting Mrs. Weasley.

_I'm sorry about last night._

_Please meet me in the library tonight at 1:00 am._

_We need to talk._

_Remus_

Merlin's beard! What on earth could Remus want to talk to her about? How rude it is to spy on other people having sex? Or maybe… maybe he wanted to confess his total attraction and undying love for her. He was merely humoring Sirius while he waited for Hermione to grow up, and now that she was practically an adult, he was ready to make his feelings known, and he was sorry she'd seen him with Sirius because really, truly, he only had eyes for her… Well, she thought, a girl can always hope.

After supper, the entire household stayed in the kitchen socializing. It was Christmas Eve, and the Weasleys were a merry bunch now that Arthur was improving. They sang Christmas carols, drank butterbeer, ate popcorn (Fred and George throwing it across the table into each other's mouths), and told stories of Christmases past. Hermione studiously avoided making eye contact with either Remus or Sirius. After a couple of hours, she began to worry that everyone would still be awake at 1:00 am, and that she and Remus would be unable to get any privacy without attracting too many questions. Just as Hermione was thinking that this party could go on all night, Sirius (bless his furry little heart) sent everyone upstairs to bed.

"It's midnight," he announced. "Don't you people know that you need to go to sleep sometime tonight, or Father Christmas won't be able to drop in and leave you any gifts?" He waggled his eyebrows at Fred and George. "Or lumps of coal, as the case may be."

Everyone burst out laughing, as Fred protested, putting on his most innocent, wide-eyed expression, "Sirius, you can't possibly think that Father Christmas, or anyone else, would consider me and George naughty, now can you?"

"Sirius is right, everyone," said Mrs. Weasley, patting her twins fondly on the head as she passed them on her way to the kitchen door. She pointed out the door to the stairs. "Go on then, get yourselves to bed. I'll see you all for Christmas breakfast in the morning."

And so, grumbling loudly, the whole lot of them trooped up the stairs, awakening Mrs. Black's portrait, which started screeching obscenities at them. "Happy Christmas to you, too, Mother," said Sirius, as he shut the curtains over her portrait once more.

As Hermione passed him and headed up the stairs, she met Sirius's eyes for the first time all day. She blushed bright red, and Sirius winked at her. What was that about? He must know, she thought, that I'm to meet Remus in an hour. It was not likely to be coincidence that he sent everyone to bed just in time. What could be going on that he is helping me to have a late night secret meeting with his lover? Hermione was completely baffled by the entire situation. Men were so NOT like textbooks. Textbooks were easy: you opened them, you read them, you learned what you needed to know. But men – men, so far, were a mystery. Luckily, she reminded herself, there had never yet been a mystery that Hermione Granger hadn't been able to solve.

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A/N: Please review! (You don't want a lump of coal in YOUR stocking, now do you?) 


	3. Chapter 3: Revelations

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 3: Revelations

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At the appointed time, with Ginny again sleeping heavily, Hermione headed back downstairs to the library. She hadn't felt it would be appropriate to meet Remus in her nightgown, so she had gone to bed with her jeans and t-shirt on under her bathrobe. After Ginny was asleep, and the clock said it was time, she climbed out of bed, pulled off her robe, and slipped out of the room.

She crept down the stairs with her lit want held aloft in one hand, and the book of runes in the other. This time, she was so nervous about what Remus would say to her that she didn't even notice the creepy elf heads on the wall.

When she got to the library, Remus was waiting for her, as she had expected. What she hadn't expected was to find Sirius there, as well. Okay, Hermione conceded, it looks like he won't be confessing his undying love and attraction to me tonight after all. So… why am I here, exactly? And what have these two been getting up to, alone here in the library so late at night? Am I, perhaps, to be treated to an encore performance? At this thought, Hermione blushed and dropped her eyes to the floor. She had no idea what to say, so she said nothing at all.

Remus approached her, retrieved the book of runes, and replaced it on a shelf. Then he took her hand, and led her to the couch. He sat next to her. He and Sirius exchanged glances, and looked at her with concern. "Thanks for coming, Hermione," Remus finally said. "I'm glad you got my note."

Hermione nodded mutely, her cheeks still burning.

"We just needed to make sure you're okay," said Remus. "You totally surprised us, obviously, and I know we surprised you, too. We followed you upstairs as quickly as we could, so we could check on you. But by the time we got to the landing, you were already in your room, and it sounded like you might have been crying. I'm really sorry if we upset you."

Hermione blushed, if possible, an even darker red as she realized that Sirius and Remus had been listening outside her door while she stroked herself into that climax that had wrenched those cries from her throat. Incredibly, despite her embarrassment, Hermione discovered that this revelation was making her hot and wet again. Fascinating, really, she mused. Sirius and I both saw Remus getting off last night, and apparently both of them heard me getting off just afterward. Could tonight be Sirius's turn to have an orgasm witnessed by both me and Remus? And which sense would we use, having already used sight and sound? Touch? Taste? Oh, Merlin, if I keep up this line of questioning, I'm going to slide right off the couch…

"Hermione?" It was Sirius himself. Hermione snapped her attention back to the two men, who were staring at her expectantly, obviously waiting for some kind of response.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she said, and mentally flogged herself for thoughts unbecoming of a prefect. "No – No – You didn't upset me, well, not exactly, anyway, it's just… Well, I don't really know…" Hermione realized she was babbling, and stopped.

Sirius came closer, sat down on the floor by her feet, and took her hand. He looked up at her with those eyes – those damned sexy gray eyes peeking out from under his damned sexy black hair. How could she ever hope to communicate properly, when all she wanted to do was to run her fingers through his hair and snog him senseless? Unless, perhaps, she were to run her fingers through Remus's hair, and snog him senseless instead. Oh, how frustrating to be so close to them both, dancing around the topics of sex and voyeurism, no less, and to realize that all they want is each other. Damn, she told herself. Double damn.

"Take a breath, kiddo, and then just say whatever you want to say to us. We can handle it. The thing is, unless we can get past what happened last night, we're going to continue to feel pretty awkward around each other, and I know that neither Moony nor I want that."

Remus, who was still holding her hand from when he had led her to the couch, smiled and gave her hand a squeeze to let her know that no, he didn't want things to be awkward anymore, either.

Hermione smiled back weakly, and took a deep breath. Then her smile crumpled into an expression of misery, and she blurted out, "I'm so sorry! I couldn't sleep last night, and I came down to the kitchen for some warm milk! I should have gone straight back to bed the second I realized I would be intruding if I came into the kitchen, but for some reason…"

"Go on," urged Remus, "it's okay."

"Well, for some reason, I just couldn't get my legs to move at all," she finished, lamely, looking down at her traitorous feet.

Sirius was stroking her left hand in what he must have thought was a comforting way, but it was really very distracting. "You know, Hermione," he said earnestly, "we both have the greatest respect for you, and we shouldn't have done anything that put you in such an awkward position last night. We're sorry."

Remus shot Sirius an I-told-you-so look. Hermione, unable to stop herself, burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" they both asked, in unison.

"Oh, just the way you two communicate without words," she chuckled. "I did have a moment last night when I was surprised to see you two together, but then I realized I should have known it all along."

Sirius winked at her again, and teased, "So you didn't know, when you first met us, that the escaped prisoner and the werewolf professor were anything more than friends, eh?"

She laughed again, and started to feel comfortable again around her two friends. Remus was now stroking her right hand with his thumb, and she wondered faintly if they had any idea what they were doing to her. She looked from one to the other, and just couldn't be sure. What the hell, she decided, I might as well go for broke. I've got nothing to lose.

"No, I didn't. As a matter of fact," and she lowered her lashes coyly, but this time she wasn't blushing, "when I first met you, I developed a bit of a schoolgirl crush on you."

Remus chuckled, "That's not such a revelation, Hermione. When we were at school probably 80 percent of the witches at Hogwarts developed schoolgirl crushes on Sirius, and that's including the teachers."

Sirius laughed appreciatively, then attempted to look modest.

Hermione looked Remus in the eyes, and managed to keep her cool even though she flashed back to the way their eyes had locked right after Remus had climaxed, almost 24 hours ago. "No," she said clearly, "that's not exactly what I meant."

Silence.

Then Sirius barked a laugh and said, "Oh, you meant you had a crush on old Moony, here! Well, don't let him fool you, kiddo, he was a bit of a heartbreaker, too, back in the day…"

Remus didn't laugh. He just stared into Hermione's eyes, until she turned to lock eyes with Sirius. "No," she said again, but more slowly, "that's not exactly what I meant, either."

Silence again.

Finally, Sirius whispered, "Then what did you mean, exactly, Hermione?"

Hermione smiled serenely. "I meant," she said, looking from one handsome face to the other, "I had a crush on you both."

"On both of us!" exclaimed Sirius. "This calls for a toast! Moony, conjure up a few glasses, will you, while I grab the firewhiskey?" He summoned a dusty bottle from a high shelf. "What do you say, Hermione, will you join us in a toast?"

Remus rolled his eyes as he poured the drinks. "Hermione, all I can say is that it's a good thing I am no longer your teacher. After last night, and giving you firewhiskey tonight, I'm sure I am no longer in any position to be your professor ever again."

"To schoolgirl crushes," said Sirius, raising his glass.

"Hear, hear," laughed Hermione, and she tipped back her drink and swallowed it in one gulp. Sirius's jaw dropped open. Hermione giggled, and turned to see Remus looking at her with the exact same expression. Then the two men looked at each other and shrugged, tipped back their own drinks, and turned back to Hermione.

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A/N: OK, so the last couple of chapters have been set-up, but things will get juicy again in the next chapter, so bear with me. Reviews? Hermione's taste in schoolgirl crushes has improves since second year, don't you agree? (cough-LOCKHART-cough) 


	4. Chapter 4: Control

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 4: Control

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Hermione readjusted herself on the couch so that she was facing the werewolf. "Actually, Professor… Well, since you are no longer my professor, may I call you Remus?" He nodded, and Sirius chuckled.

"Yes, Hermione," said Sirius, "I would say the time for formality is long gone."

"Right," she agreed. "So as I was saying, Remus, actually I had entertained fantasies that you would come back to Hogwarts one day."

"Ooh, fantasies!" sighed Sirius, "please continue!"

"Don't interrupt, Padfoot," Remus said, quietly, looking deeply into Hermione's eyes as if trying to read where her story was headed.

"Yes, you would be back at Hogwarts, and it would be my fifth year, as it is now. And I would ask Professor Snape if I could do an extra credit potions project to help me prepare for my OWLs."

"Snape," muttered Sirius. "What's HE doing in this fantasy?"

"Shut up, Padfoot." Remus kicked Sirius in the knee, though he kept his eyes on Hermione.

"Sorry, Hermione. Please continue. You were doing some extra credit potions work?"

"Yes. I would ask if I could learn to make the wolfsbane potion for you, Remus, and that way there would be a back-up, in case illness or injury were ever to keep Professor Snape from making it. And he would agree. So at the next full moon, Professor Snape and I would work on the potion together. The dungeon would get very hot from the bubbling potions, and I would have to remove my cloak, and my jumper, and my tie, and loosen my collar, and still my blouse would stick to my skin. Professor Snape's eyes would rake over me, filled with desire, but I would ignore him."

"Smart girl," murmured Sirius.

"And we would bring you our finished product, and it would be perfect," Hermione continued, ignoring the interruption. "You would drink it gratefully, and you, too, would notice my blouse clinging to me. You would look at me hungrily, and I would smile. My plan to get closer to you was working. The next month, I would make the potion myself, with Professor Snape just observing to make sure I had the procedure down correctly. Naturally, it would be perfect."

"Naturally." Neither Remus nor Hermione seemed even to hear Sirius, this time.

"Eventually, Snape would begin to trust my skill. He would realize one month that he was only watching me work because he enjoyed the view, not because I needed supervision. And finally, he would get so frustrated at being aroused every month but never getting any encouragement from me, that he would just give me the job all to myself. So at the next full moon, I would go to the dungeon alone. I would make the potion and bring it to you. You would drink it. My face and my chest would be flushed from the heat of the cauldron's fire, and from my closeness to you. My blouse would be clinging to my breasts and my stomach, and it would have become slightly translucent from the sheen of my perspiration. Your eyes would take in the moisture that had collected in my cleavage, and you would desperately want to lick it off of me. But, sadly, you would manage to control yourself, and you would drag your eyes back up to my face. You would tell me how pleased you were to have your potion made and delivered by a beautiful young woman, rather than a greasy-haired git."

When neither man laughed at her gratuitous Snape-bashing, she knew she had them right where she wanted them. The spell she was weaving with her fantasy had them both entranced.

"I would see tension throughout your body – you would be almost panting, and your muscles would be tight. I would sit next to you, like we are tonight, and place my hand on your forearm, like this, and ask if you were okay. You would answer, 'Yes, this is normal for me on a full moon night. My body anticipates the change and I begin to feel more wolfish through the evening. Even with the potion, a part of me fears the oncoming loss of control and I get more agitated as night falls.' And I would lean close to you, like this, and ask you quietly, 'What will you be like tonight, after the change?'"

Remus answered for her, and he really was panting slightly. "I will be a wolf. I will not be dangerous – I will not have a need to bite anyone. But I will have the wolfish desires to run, to roam, and to howl at the moon."

"Do you ever give in to your desires?" Hermione asked, in a low voice.

"What?" asked Remus, startled.

"To run, to roam, and to howl," Hermione clarified.

"Oh!" Remus blushed. "No, not really. Not since the Marauders graduated. I haven't felt that it would be safe. Even though I won't bite when I've had my potion, I could certainly still frighten someone. And there is a slight possibility that a frightened person could, if they thought they were in real danger, hurt me. So I stay indoors, locked in my quarters, pacing the floor and feeling trapped."

"What if I could help you fulfill your wolfish desires in a safe way? Could I stay with you tonight, and we could go into the forest together where you could be a wolf, and I could keep you safe?"

Sirius watched, silently now, as Hermione's fantasy had turned into a conversation, something she and Remus were co-creating. The two of them were lost in each other's eyes, their four hands now clasped on Remus's knee.

"Hermione," argued Remus softly, "how can you keep me safe? As a wolf I will want to roam. If we go to the forest, I can't guarantee that I will stay near you once I transform."

"There's a muggle tool, Remus, that I think could help us… If you wouldn't find it demeaning…"

"I know you would never demean me, Hermione. Tell me what you have in mind."

"It's called a leash – you might be familiar with it. I think Hagrid has used leashes sometimes with some of the creatures in his care. We would have to conjure a collar – usually they're made of leather – and it would be loose enough to be comfortable, but tight enough so it couldn't slip off. Then the leash is a long strap that attaches to the collar here," (she released one of Remus's hands to indicate how the leash hooks to the collar) "and has a loop at the other end for me to hold. It would keep us connected."

Remus nodded slowly. "It sounds like it could work, Hermione, and I trust you to keep me safe."

"So we would agree, and I would stay," Hermione said, taking control of her story once again. "And when you transformed, I would conjure a collar and a leash. I would wait to be sure the castle was dark and quiet, and sure enough, you would be pacing the room, pawing at the door, and moaning softly. I would do my best to calm you by petting you and talking to you gently, and assuring you that you would get to go outside. When the time was right, I would attach the leash, and unlock your door. We would go quietly and quickly to the Forbidden Forest, and then we would run together through the trees. I would not be afraid of anything in the forest, because I would be with you. I would let you lead the way wherever you wanted to go, but the leash would keep you no more than a few feet from me. Eventually, we would find a clearing, and the full moon would light us up with its silvery glow. We would feel like we were the only two beings in the world. We would sit together in the clearing and howl at the moon. You would be so beautiful, Remus, doing what you were meant to do, letting your wild wolf self out to play."

As Hermione wove her fantasy, she and Remus did feel as if they were the only two beings in the world. Remus's eyes sparkled. Even without the light of the full moon shining on him, he seemed almost to be glowing.

"After a while, we would return to your quarters, and I would lock the door behind us again. I would light a fire in your fireplace, and we would curl up together on the hearth rug. I would fall asleep with a tired and happy wolf. And in the morning, I would wake to find myself curled up with a tired, happy, and gorgeous man. You would wake up, stretch, and then turn to face me. You would cup my face in your hands and you would kiss me, so tenderly…" Hermione's eyes fell to Remus's soft lips, and she became rather distracted.

"Like this?" whispered Remus, and he did just as Hermione had described. She groaned and closed her eyes, and felt as if she were floating. She got so lost in the kiss that when Remus finally pulled back, she was disoriented. As the room came back into focus, she remembered where she was and that she had been sharing her werewolf fantasy, but she found she didn't know where she was in her story anymore.

Remus came to the rescue, picking up where she left off. "And then I would tell you that not only are you the brightest witch of your age, but you are also an incredibly beautiful and compassionate woman, and that in taming me as a wolf, you had set me free as a man. That not since my 7th year at school, with Sirius and James to keep me safe, had I had any fun on a full moon. And that never before had I been able to see the beauty in my wolfish self, to truly love the wolf in my veins. And then I would pull you to me, and stroke your hair, and kiss you some more."

Hermione swallowed hard, and found her voice again, though she sounded slightly hoarse as she continued, "And you would be pressed against me, and I would feel the, erm… magnitude of your desire for me. Your sense of smell still somewhat heightened, like a wolf's, you would recognize the scent of my desire for you. You would nuzzle my neck and lick your way down my chest to my belly, following the scent of my arousal. And I would whimper in anticipation, and you would growl softly with pleasure as you reached your goal… You would be hungry for me, and I would caress your face and run my fingers through your hair. We would explore each other's bodies with our mouths and our hands, until we both knew we needed to be even more deeply connected. You would look at me, questioning with your eyes, and reading in mine what you needed to know. Our bodies would merge and we would move together as one being until we both howled again in release. And then we would lie together, panting, in each other's arms…"

They became silent, except for their breathing, which had become ragged, as if they really had been running together in the forest in the moonlight. They were both flushed, and had not broken eye contact – except during their kiss – since Hermione had begun telling her story. They were sitting close together, knees touching, and Remus again held both of Hermione's hands in his own. The fabric of his trousers was stretched tight across his erection, and though Hermione didn't see it (as she was still gazing into Remus's eyes), Sirius did.

* * *

A/N: Don't worry, Sirius gets more involved in the next chapter. I solemnly swear he will not be a bystander any longer. Thanks for the reviews – they're very gratifying. And we all need gratification sometimes… 


	5. Chapter 5: Freedom

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 5: Freedom

* * *

"Right, then," said Sirius, breaking the silence at last. "I think I could use another drink after that story! Anyone else?"

Hermione and Remus turned toward him and blinked in surprise, as if they had forgotten he was in the room. Remus released Hermione's hands, and they smiled, a little embarrassed, and nodded.

As Sirius refilled their glasses, he tried to sound nonchalant. "Excellent story, Granger. Anytime you can include leather collars and straps in your sexual fantasies, I say you're doing a bang-up job." He raised his glass and toasted again. "To sexual fantasies!"

"Hear, hear!" said Remus, weakly, and they all downed their shots again.

"All right then, little miss sweaty wolf-tamer," teased Sirius, "I believe you said you had a crush on both of us. I hope you've got a story that features an incredibly handsome shaggy black dog…"

"Oh, but of course I do," Hermione purred. As she shifted position on the couch to face him, she noticed that her knickers were soaked through from her imaginary adventure with Remus. And she hadn't even started in with Sirius yet. She hoped someone had had the foresight to Scotchgard the furniture.

"Sirius," she began, and he – seated again on the floor at her feet – leaned forward eagerly, "after Harry and I saved you from the dementors' kiss and you had to go into hiding, I used to think about you quite frequently. I worried about where you might be and if you were safe, and whether you might be hungry or lonely. I wondered if you might even be thinking of me sometimes."

Sirius grinned at her, his eyes twinkling in anticipation.

"In my fantasies, I would strike up a correspondence with you by owl, which, wanting some part of you all to myself, I would keep secret even from Harry and Ron. Not wishing to jeopardize your hiding spots, I would never ask you where you were, only how you were, and if you needed anything. From time to time, you would ask me to send some little thing – food items, mostly – and I would find them for you and sneak them up to the owlery under my robes and tie a package to an owl's leg and send it off to you."

"Fresh fruit… how I missed fresh fruit," sighed Sirius.

"One day, in response to my usual question – 'Is there anything you need?' – your note would say, 'to see you.' My heart would flutter but I would tell myself it didn't mean anything, that you only wanted to get me some information that was too sensitive for owl post. Your note would say nothing else, but you would have drawn a lion's head with a flaming mane. From the top of the mane, a line extended straight up. I would know that this meant I should be at the Gryffindor common room fireplace at midnight. I would understand that you meant for me to be alone."

"Your face would appear in the fire at the appointed time. You would ask me if I knew about the one-eyed witch passage out of Hogwarts, the one that goes to the Honeydukes basement, and if I thought I could get to that passage without being caught by Filch. You would promise to meet me outside the Honeydukes back entrance the following night at midnight."

"So the next night, I would sneak out of the common room. I would tell the Fat Lady I was meeting a boy from another house for a rendezvous in a disused classroom, and promise to give her the details when I returned if she would not tell anyone I was out after curfew. I would slip quietly into the one-eyed witch passage. I would let myself out of the Honeydukes basement and into the alley behind the store, and find an incredibly handsome, shaggy black dog waiting for me, tail wagging happily. You would sniff me all over and lick my hands, and then you would lead me to the Shrieking Shack. Once inside, you would transform back into your incredibly handsome but not-quite-so-shaggy human self. And I would ask you again if there is anything you need."

"And I would answer that all I really needed was to be with you, to spend time with you, to talk to a caring human being who doesn't think I'm a mass murderer," Sirius supplied.

"Yes, exactly," Hermione replied. "And I would go to you, and wrap my arms around your chest, and hug you tight."

"And I would be almost overcome by the sensation: I've had so little physical human contact in more than a dozen years that I had almost forgotten the depth of how much I missed it - how much I needed it."

"Yes, and you would take my arms and raise them so that they were around your neck, and my body was pressed more intimately into yours. You would thank me for coming, your words getting a little lost in my hair, and I would tell you how happy I was to see you, and how glad I was that you were looking well. Your body would respond to the feel of my lips moving against your neck as I spoke, and the feel of my breasts crushed against your chest. I would feel you getting stiff inside your trousers, and I would inhale sharply as you inadvertently poked me a bit in the waist. I would readjust to find a more comfortable arrangement, and you would moan ever so quietly at the change in pressure. You would really want to kiss me, and run your hands up under my blouse, but you have some things you feel you need to say first…"

"I do?" Sirius asked. "Are you quite sure?"

"Yes, of course I am," Hermione assured him. "This is my fantasy, after all. So you would look down into my eyes and tell me how much my letters and my concern had meant to you, and how they had helped you to begin to feel reconnected to a world from which you had felt excluded for so long."

"Oh, right," said Sirius. "I would definitely feel that way, though I'd really want to get to the kissing and the hands under the blouse. So I'd put my lips right next to your ear, and whisper to you that when I escaped from Azkaban I had thought I would be free. And you would shiver from the feel of my breath in your ear."

"Yes, I'm sure that I would!"

"And I would kiss your neck as I told you that even without dementors, and without walls, and without bars, I was still trapped – imprisoned in my isolation, until I could be proven innocent."

"And nibble, too."

"Hmmm?"

"My neck," she said, "you would kiss it and nibble it while you said that."

"Yes, of course," he grinned. "Kissing and nibbling. And I would slide my hands up under your blouse as I told you that I was free to roam under the stars and breathe fresh air, but only in disguise. And I would unhook your bra as I said that I was still not free to be myself, the man I am inside. And I would raise your blouse and lower my head to your breasts as I told you I was not yet free to be with the people I love, and do what I want to do."

Remus listened as Hermione and Sirius now created their own scenario. He watched Hermione with a curious expression. Sirius was really pushing the physical aspect of the fantasy, but she didn't seem to mind at all.

Hermione didn't notice Remus's stare. She and Sirius were deep into their creation. She had slid off the couch (intentionally, not as a result of her soaking wet knickers) and joined Sirius on the floor. They faced each other, cross-legged, knees touching, eyes shining, chests rising and falling in unison, Hermione's left hand in Sirius's right.

"Sirius," she said softly, "I would open your trousers as I begged you to please be yourself with me."

"Mmmm, begging… I like it."

"I would slip your trousers and boxers down, and tell you I want you to be the man you truly are, and I want you to be free to do whatever you want to do."

"Sweet Merlin…"

"And I would stroke you, gently at first, as I told you that if I could offer you any freedom, a safe place to be authentic, that I wanted to do that for you."

Sirius moaned softly.

"Then I would say, as I dropped to my knees in front of you, 'No, I want to do it for me, too. I want to know you, to know all of you.' And I would take all of you, ever so slowly, into my mouth."

"But Hermione," Sirius groaned, shifting position slightly in an attempt to ease the discomfort of his now far-too-tight trousers, "I am a hated and feared man who has spent 12 years in hell. How can you want to know all of me? How can you want to be with me, when – as far as the Ministry is concerned – I'm a wanted man?"

Hermione reached out with her free hand and caressed Sirius's cheek. "I know I can't hope to erase 12 years of hell, but I do hope that together we can create some small portion of heaven. You see, Sirius, as far as I'm concerned, you're a wanted man, too – though I mean it in an entirely different sense of the word…" And this time, Hermione made the move, gracefully rising to her knees to close the distance between them, and kissing Sirius. It felt so good to kiss him, to be the one that initiated the kiss. Sirius responded with a hand in her hair, drawing her in even closer, and deepening the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, panting from arousal and lack of oxygen, Sirius winked again and asked softly, "And then what, Hermione? Do you and I get to shag on the hearth rug, too?"

Hermione giggled, and smacked him playfully on the shoulder, as they both looked over at Remus. Remus raised his eyebrows and smiled, but looked confused. He had been lost in his own thoughts, and was surprised to find them both with swollen lips and flushed faces, looking up at him. Hermione got up from the floor and poured everyone another shot. Remus and Sirius chuckled and shrugged, taking their glasses from her.

"Well, Hermione," Sirius persisted, "What about it? Don't I get a howling good hearth rug shag, too?"

"Don't be silly," Hermione told him, primly, having reseated herself on the couch. "We were in the Shrieking Shack, remember? And I'd told you I wanted you to feel completely free with me?"

"Yesss…"

"So – you rip my clothes off of me, throw me onto the bed, and shag me senseless… doggie style!"

Remus, unfortunately, had started to sip his firewhiskey, and choked on it. Sirius leaped up, laughing, and pounded his friend on the back.

As Remus coughed and tried to compose himself again, Sirius said cheerfully, "Well, that does sound to me like a howling good time!"

"Oh yes," agreed Hermione, and now it was her turn to wink at Sirius. "Howling, and, of course, shrieking. That building does have a reputation to uphold."

"Speaking of reputations, sweetheart," Sirius teased her, "you're going to get one yourself, if you're not careful. You've got a little thing for handsome older men with canine tendencies, don't you!"

"Guilty," she admitted with a grin.

Sirius poured Remus a replacement shot of firewhiskey. He raised his own glass again, and cheered, "To doggie style!"

"Hear, hear," Hermione giggled. This was so much more fun than skiing with Mum and Dad.

* * *

A/N: Okay, as promised, I let Sirius out to play in this chapter. It was harder to write than I had expected, so I hope it came out all right. 


	6. Chapter 6: Questions and Answers

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 6: Questions and Answers

* * *

The firewhiskey shots were going down easier, now. After this third one, Hermione noticed they didn't burn as much on the way down, didn't make her eyes water anymore. She was feeling quite warm. Warm and happy here, just sharing a laugh with her two adorable friends. Just sharing a laugh, and a couple of kisses. Very hot kisses… Right, then: just sharing a laugh, a couple of very hot kisses, and some sexual banter that had lit up her nerve endings like she was a pinball machine. Unless it was the firewhiskey that had done that to her…

Whatever. It didn't matter, because – obviously – this was as far as things would go. Well, wasn't it obvious? They were lovers, they were gay, and they didn't need or want her, did they? Well, did they? They were adorable, but they were rather confusing, these two. Nothing was making too much sense (perhaps that was the firewhiskey, too), but at the moment it just didn't seem to matter much (which may have also been due to the firewhiskey).

It doesn't matter, she told herself again, firmly. As long as it doesn't go any further, there's no urgency in figuring out this situation. Kissing is pretty harmless, right? Anything more than that, and she'd probably want to have her wits about her, but what's a good-hearted snog between friends?

Sirius had put down his glass, and walked around to the back of the couch. He placed one hand on Remus's shoulder, and the other on Hermione's, and gave them both a squeeze. They both turned to look up at him. Hermione remembered with a jolt how Sirius had started the previous night's adventure by giving Remus a shoulder rub, and felt her knees turn to jelly again. Thank Merlin at least she was sitting down this time.

"Well, Moony," he said, "It seems the brightest witch of her age may also have the dirtiest mind of her age. A promising combination! Which leads me to one all-important question."

"Just one?" Remus chuckled. "I'm sure I could come up with at least a dozen very important questions for our lovely guest. I'm quite curious to hear which one question you feel is most critical at this juncture!"

Sirius gave her shoulder another squeeze, and damn it all, it did feel really good. That might make it all the harder to gather her wits about her, and she had a feeling she might need them soon. She had a pretty good idea what Sirius wanted to ask her.

"I'd like to know," he said, his eyes boring into hers, "whether Hermione prefers fantasies to stay fantasies, or whether she prefers to live dangerously."

Deep breath, Hermione, old girl. Stall for time. "I'm, erm…, not sure I'm prepared to answer that right now," Hermione stammered. "I mean, fantasies are lovely. But in real life, things can get messy."

"Hmm… an abstention from the gorgeous brunette on the couch. Maybe we try a different question. How about you, Moony? Want to pick just one of your dozen important questions for right now?"

Remus blushed, but then smiled and met Hermione's eyes. "I'd like to know what Hermione is doing at the next full moon!"

Sirius let out a bark of a laugh, and Hermione let herself grin, too. "I'm not sure," she answered truthfully, "but I'll probably be back at school."

"Too bad, Moony! And you, Miss Dirty-Minded Prefect, do you have any questions for us?"

"Well, yeah…," she said, slowly. "I mean, I guess I just want to know what's going on with you two. Last night, it seemed clear that you were a couple, and I was a bit sad that neither of you was ever likely to be interested in me because… Well, for one thing, you have each other. And for another, I'm a girl! But something was happening here tonight. I felt it in your kisses, and heard it in your voices. I saw it in your eyes, and… well, also in your trousers, Sirius – sorry, but you look like you've got a tent pole in there!"

"Mine!" he laughed. "You were too busy making goo-goo eyes with Moony to notice the big top HE erected in your honor!" Now Remus turned and smacked Sirius, too. Then he smiled sheepishly at Hermione.

"The point is, I really didn't expect you to respond the way you did. I thought I'd tell my stories and we'd laugh about my silly schoolgirl crushes and we'd just move on. But you know, I'm not a silly schoolgirl anymore, and I've noticed we're not exactly laughing off those fantasies. In fact, you're both behaving as if you wouldn't mind acting on them! Unless you're just teasing me, and I'm not getting the joke…"

Sirius released his grip on their shoulders, and came back around to the front of the couch. He sat on Hermione's other side, and took her hand. The two men's eyes met, and Remus gave the slightest nod. Sirius took a deep breath, and said, "Hermione, we're not teasing you or making fun of you. We really do have the utmost respect for you – as a witch, as a person, and as a sexual being. Yes, Remus and I love each other very much, and as you well know, we have a gratifying physical relationship as well. But in our experience, pretty much everyone is bisexual until proven otherwise. Just because you're female doesn't mean we aren't intrigued. You are an incredibly sexy young woman whom we both adore. As long as it's consensual all the way around, we are both absolutely interested in helping you fulfill any and all of your sexual fantasies."

Remus nodded his agreement, and smiled at her encouragingly.

Hermione pressed her fists to her temples. "Guys, this is a lot to take in all at once. I really don't mean to be a tease, but I think things are moving a little too fast for me. Twenty-four hours ago, I was a passive witness to a sexual act. Earlier this evening, with your able help, I created my own imaginary sexual acts. And now you're telling me that if I give the all clear, I could be an active participant in a sexual encounter with either one of you!"

"Or both," interjected Sirius, "unless, Moony, you would object."

"What, do you mean simultaneously?" growled the werewolf, with a hungry look in his eye.

"Oh, definitely," agreed Sirius. "I'm up for it if you are!" They grinned at each other.

"Right: THIS is what I mean when I say things are moving a little too fast for me, gentlemen! And I daresay I'm using that term a bit loosely!"

"No worries, Hermione," Remus said gently, placing a hand on her knee – which had the opposite of the soothing effect he probably intended. Hermione felt she might jump out of her skin. "We were getting a little carried away with the possibilities, love, but we promise to let you set the pace and the parameters of any further exploration that might take place. Look, you've still got a couple of weeks before you return to Hogwarts, don't you? Take a little time and think about what you are ready to try. Personally, I would feel very honored if you would let me be a part of this… well, I guess it could be seen as a new aspect of your education, couldn't it?"

"Oh, listen to you, Moony! Always the teacher. Yes, I agree it would be an honor, but besides that it would just be great fun, and an exciting new way for us to express our deep affection for our dear Hermione! Merlin, the way she protected your secret for months, and how she figured out how to save me from the dementors. I mean, how could anyone not love this girl?"

Hermione blushed again, and in a rush of affection, she kissed first Sirius and then Remus on the cheek.

"Ah, Moony, look what we've done by getting all noble," Sirius mock-groaned. "The spell is broken, and now we're getting pecked on the cheek instead of snogged passionately."

Hermione stood up, and turned to face her dear friends, her eyes glistening with emotion. "Listen guys, I'm going to take myself back up to bed – yes, Sirius, alone. I don't know that I'll be able to sleep at all, but I do think I need a little time to myself to consider everything that has happened here tonight. Thank you, both of you, for everything. For inviting me here to make sure I was okay, for helping me create such enjoyable fantasies, for really listening to me and talking so honestly with me, and… well, of course for leaving the next step in my hands. You could easily have taken advantage of me, but you didn't. I really do love you guys."

"We love you, too, Hermione," they chorused, as she turned and walked out of the library.

She walked slowly up the stairs. With each step, she yearned to turn off her brain, return to the library, and just fulfill her bodily desires. Still, she kept putting one foot in front of the other. Damn that brain of hers that just wouldn't turn off. She knew that brain would keep her up all night considering her possibilities, too, unless she took matters into her own hands and employed her new favorite insomnia cure. Sirius and Remus would also need some release from the sexual tension that the three of them had created that evening, but at least they had each other – and that thought brought her slow progress forward to a halt. Maybe she could sneak back down and just watch for a bit, as they brought out their tent poles and… Dear Merlin, what they might be doing even now! Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply, attempting to steady herself and steel her resolve. After a full two minutes of internal debate, Hermione opened her eyes, and returned to climbing the stairs. She knew, of course, even through the effects of three shots of firewhiskey, two incredible kisses, and hours of verbal foreplay, that what she really needed was to cool off and think things through. Damn and double damn. Sometimes that exceptional brain of hers was a real bitch.

* * *

A/N: Oh to have such a dilemma! What's a girl to do? Keep up the reviews, please… 


	7. Chapter 7: Research

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 7: Research

* * *

Hermione's insomnia cure had worked again. She had replayed the fantasies she had created earlier in the evening, and pretended her fingers belonged to Remus and Sirius, who desired nothing more than her complete satisfaction. It wasn't long before she was crying out in sweet, total release. After her body had stopped quivering, she found that her limbs felt heavy and immobile, melting into her mattress. More importantly, her mind was similarly calmed, and her thoughts melted into nothingness as she dropped into a heavy sleep. 

Unfortunately, there just weren't enough hours in the night. It seemed as if she had only just fallen asleep when Ginny was shaking her shoulders. "Get up, sleepyhead! It's Christmas morning! Mum's got Christmas breakfast ready, there are presents to open, and we get to visit my dad in St. Mungo's!"

"Mmmph? Oh, yeah… Christmas," Hermione muttered, as she dragged herself upright and pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a soft pink jumper.

The presents were fun, but she didn't know what to make of Ron's gift. Perfume – it was unlike him. It didn't have anything to do with food or quidditch. Is he, she asked herself, finally starting to recognize that I'm a girl? Well, buddy, you're late. I have two handsome men who have offered to fulfill my fantasies, and all I have to do is give the word. Maybe it's your turn to wait for me, Ron, 'cause I'm tired of waiting for you. You snooze, you lose! And she headed happily down the stairs.

At breakfast, everyone was in a great mood – smiling, laughing, patting each other on the back, and hugging. Hermione noticed that her Christmas morning hugs from Sirius and Remus were held about a millisecond too long to be completely appropriate, but she didn't think it had caught anyone else's attention.

* * *

That afternoon, after the St. Mungo's trip, it was quiet in the house. Ginny was in the kitchen helping Mrs. Weasley prepare Christmas dinner. Harry, Ron, Fred, and George were all up in the twins' room doing Merlin-knew-what. Probably discussing quidditch, or maybe talking about running into Lockhart and Neville at St. Mungo's.

Hermione had managed to find some time to herself in the library again. She needed it. Her situation with Sirius and Remus had been on her mind all day, but there had been so many distractions that she hadn't had time to really think things through.

Was it true, what they said about almost everyone swinging a bit both ways? Could Harry have a crush on a boy at school as well as on Cho Chang? Maybe Draco, she thought, with an evil smile. Harry had always taken the Slytherin boy's taunts a little too personally.

And what about Ron? She knew he liked her, even if he didn't know it himself. But if she had to pick a bloke for Ron, well… It could only be Harry. Harry had always been the sun in Ron's sky, and she'd seen how hurt he had been last year when he thought Harry had joined the TriWizard Tournament without consulting him or confiding in him.

Okay, but those are all males. What about females – if she was honest with herself, if she really opened her mind to the possibility, were there any girls at school that she considered attractive? Well sure: the Patil twins were gorgeous, there was no denying that. But that didn't mean she liked them as anything more than just friends. And, inexplicably, her mind turned to Luna Lovegood. Luna? Infuriating, daft Luna? She may be intelligent enough to be a Ravenclaw, but with her crazy beliefs in things that are beyond proof, she is almost an anti-intellectual. Head in the clouds, that dreamy disposition of hers… that over-the-top independence, her absolute refusal to bow to social conformity, her quirky sense of humor, her ridiculous optimism, her long blonde hair, her soft-looking lips, and her delicate hands… Fine, fine. So the girl had some appeal. Hermione decided to pay a little closer attention to Luna when she got back to Hogwarts, and just see if there really was any kind of spark there, and if she got any encouragement to explore a more-than-friends relationship.

But back to the task at hand. If she did buy Sirius's assertion that they could really be as attracted to her as she was to them – and as they were to each other… If she could trust that their offer was genuine… Should she take them up on it?

Shortly before tea, the men had come by to say hello, and she had sent them away, but asked them to meet her again at midnight. They grinned at her, and then at each other, and left her alone.

Hermione still hadn't a clue what would happen at midnight. Would she tell them she was up for some sexual exploration, or would she tell them that, for now at least, fantasies would have to remain fantasies?

Just in case, because Hermione was nothing if not practical, she had been researching contraception charms in the healing arts section of the Black family library. She hoped Sirius and Remus hadn't noticed the book she was reading and made any good guesses about her research aims.

As she worked, Hermione made mental lists and charts to help her figure out what to do. Pro's versus con's. Risks versus benefits. Flow charts, probability grids, and best- and worst-case scenarios.

Of course, it hadn't been easy to stay focused, either on the contraceptive research or on the rational decision-making strategies. Her newly-awakened libido kept interrupting, providing either images of Sirius and Remus together in the kitchen firelight – the moans and sighs, the licks and nibbles, the playful nuzzling, the arched back and the clutched armrest – or images from the fantasies shared in this very library, on this very couch, just last night – Remus kissing his way down her stomach as he followed his nose, Sirius lifting her blouse and lowering his head… But even with such delicious distractions, Hermione had no intention of showing up at midnight without a carefully thought-through plan.

By suppertime, Hermione was ready. She had always found there was nothing as effective as a deadline for getting her best work done. She joined the others in the kitchen for the meal. It was a sumptuous, but somewhat subdued affair. Everyone seemed to be emotionally exhausted from the trip to St. Mungo's. Hermione had no doubt that the entire household would turn in early, bellies full, and minds and hearts in need of rest. Everyone, that is, except herself, Remus, and Sirius, both of whom had been sneaking glances at her all through the meal, as if trying to read her mind. She smiled to herself, enjoying keeping them in suspense.

* * *

Midnight found Hermione sneaking down the stairs for the third night in a row. Apparently, misbehaving was habit-forming. She might have to be a bit more understanding of a Prefect in the future, she mused, unless she wanted to be a hypocrite.

Sure enough, when she arrived, both Sirius and Remus were waiting for her. They scooted apart on the couch to make room for her, and she sat between them. She wasn't sure exactly how to start, and it seemed like they were all three holding their breath, waiting for some signal. The longer they waited, the more entrenched the silence became, and the greater the daring required to break it. Hermione looked from one to the other for some sign of imminent speech, only to find them both gazing at her intently. How long could this continue, she wondered. If she didn't say something, would they just sit there in silence for the rest of the night? And without warning, Hermione burst into laughter. Sirius and Remus joined in, but from their faces, she could tell they had no idea what was so funny to her, and that made her laugh all the harder. She shook with mirth until she had to wipe at her eyes with her sleeve. Finally, gasping for breath and trying hard to regain control, she apologized. "I'm so sorry, you guys, but we were all taking this far too seriously. If we're going to have any fun with this, we're just going to have to relax!"

Remus grinned at her. "So then, we are going to have some fun together, eh?"

"Oh, yes," chuckled Hermione. "Definitely."

"I knew it, Moony," Sirius crowed. "It was an offer she couldn't refuse. So this is excellent! Shall we go up to my room together, and see what happens? Shall we bring the firewhiskey along?"

"Hold on there, hot stuff," Hermione protested, as Sirius was already on his feet and was dragging her up to standing, as well. "Remus told me last night I'd be able to set the pace and parameters of anything we did."

Sirius sat, and pouted dramatically at Remus, who laughed.

"Yes, Hermione, I did say that. I take it you have some boundaries to set?"

"Well, Remus," she said, sitting down next to him again, "it was actually something you said that helped me figure out what I wanted to do."

"Oh, please, let it be when Moony used the word 'simultaneously'…" moaned Sirius, perhaps partly in jest.

"Shut it, Padfoot, and let the lady talk," said Remus, but he smiled indulgently at Sirius, more amused and sympathetic than irritated.

"Actually – and don't laugh at me! Promise!"

Both men nodded.

"Actually," continued Hermione, "it was when Moony used the word 'education.'"

Sirius smirked, but managed not to laugh.

"I mean it, Sirius, don't laugh! It really was a great idea. I know people think I'm a little obsessive about school, and I can see the humor in my turning the opportunity of a wild three-way into another educational undertaking – really, I can. But it actually makes perfect sense."

"In what way, Hermione?" asked Remus.

"Well, think about it," she said, getting up again and turning to face them. "You two have a great relationship already. You don't need me complicating things by getting involved with you on a long-term, or even an intermediate-term, basis. Why don't we consider this a temporary arrangement – only until I get back on the Hogwarts Express in two and a half weeks? It'll be an intensive course. I think it will be a much healthier arrangement for all of us if it's only for a limited time, and we all know the time frame up front. I'm protecting myself here, too. If I know this is short-term, I won't be as likely to let my schoolgirl crushes turn into falling in love with either of you, and set myself up for heartbreak down the road."

Sirius looked a bit put out. "I can see the sense in looking at a time-limited adventure, but I still don't see why it has to be two and a half weeks of schooling, instead of just two and a half weeks of fun!"

Hermione laughed. "Sirius, for some of us, schooling IS fun! But really, there's more to it than that. What I need you both to know is that I am in need of some schooling in this arena. I have plenty of theoretical knowledge, but very little practical experience. So I think it would be very helpful to start with the basics, say, for instance, kissing, and work up to the more advanced material over time. That also gives all of us the chance to slow things down if anyone starts to feel uncomfortable at any point. I think the two of you would be wonderful teachers. And you know… I've always been a very good student!"

Remus's eyes were shining with excitement. "Hermione, you have always been an apt pupil. All of your professors say so – yes, even Snape, though he'd kill me if he knew I told you. You probably are the only other person he would trust to make the wolfsbane potion… You know, I think it's an excellent idea to look at this as an educational opportunity – oh, stop groaning, Sirius – because, for one thing, we'll be sure to be thorough. We'll make sure you get a comprehensive initiation this way. If we just went about it as pure fun, we'd probably stick to a smaller repertoire, and you wouldn't learn as much. I don't mean to suggest that I'm a sexual expert, but… well, Sirius is!"

"A sexual expert!" Sirius barked a laugh again. "Fine, fine, make me out to be a slut puppy!"

"I'm sure he just meant that you're, erm, adventurous," Hermione chuckled.

"No, I meant that he's a slut puppy. But you're my little slut puppy, aren't you, Padfoot?" Remus put his arm around Sirius's waist, and pulled him close.

"Hmph," Sirius pouted again, but still managed to look pleased with himself. "So are you suggesting, Moony, that you and I could demonstrate some of the finer points, and then our pupil would get a chance to try her hand?"

"Gentlemen, the thing is, I'm not sure your relative experience or inexperience matters all that greatly anyway. Sure, I think the occasional demonstration of technique might be useful. But if we go into this as researchers, we can learn together all we need to know, don't you think? I mean, we've got all the equipment we need for experimentation, don't we?" She was now pacing back and forth in front of the couch in her excitement.

"Hmmm, I'm liking the sound of that. Maybe you two are onto something with this educational approach after all. Experimentation – and I'm liking the options for lab partners!"

"So," said Hermione, all business for the moment, "are we agreed? Until it's time for me to go back to school, we three agree to do primary research on sexuality and lovemaking, in a more or less progressive manner, in the spirit of exploration, experimentation, and education. We agree to have fun together and to be respectful of each other's bodies and emotions, and if any one of us wants out at any time, that needs to be all right. Yes?"

"Yes!" agreed Remus, readily.

They both looked at Sirius, who seemed to have a concern. "When you say 'do primary research'…what exactly does that mean?"

Remus chuckled, and brushed Sirius's hair out of his eyes. "Don't worry, love. There won't be any books involved. Primary research means you do the experiments yourself, instead of looking up other people's writings on the subject."

Sirius sighed in relief, and smiled at them both. "Then yes, absolutely – I agree to the terms!"

"Let's drink a shot to seal our pact," she suggested.

The men wasted no time in conjuring glasses, summoning the firewhiskey, and pouring the shots.

"To sex education, especially the lab portion," said Sirius, raising his glass.

"Hear, hear," cheered Hermione and Remus. They all drank.

"Hermione, I do have a question too, and I may well hate myself for asking it…"

"What is it, Remus?"

"If we are to take full advantage of these two and a half weeks, and I really hope we do, we'll need to meet most, if not all, nights – either here in the library or perhaps up in Sirius's room. And we've all been up half the night for the past three nights already… I mean, I really don't want to slow down the plan, I'm very excited about the plan, and very much looking forward to the first lesson, but… have you thought at all about sleep?"

Hermione sat on Remus's lap, pulled his face to hers, and kissed him hard. Although he was taken by surprise, he quickly relaxed into the kiss, cupping her face in his hands, and returning the kiss enthusiastically. When Hermione released him, she looked hungrily at his lips and then turned her gaze to Sirius's mouth, and growled, "Let the lessons begin. I can sleep on the damned train!"

* * *

A/N: Reviewers may design their own research projects with whichever character(s) they choose. 


	8. Chapter 8: Songs and Snogs

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 8: Songs and Snogs

A/N: Sorry about the chapter title from hell, for any dyslexics out there!

* * *

Sadly, Remus was right. All three were tired, having been unable to sleep in on Christmas morning. Though it didn't allow for much in the way of lessons that night, all three were in bed (Hermione in her own bed, while the men, she assumed, were in Sirius's bed together) by 2:00 am. 

Hermione felt a bit guilty for having spent so much time holed up in the library, so she planned to spend Boxing Day making it up to her friends. After another late breakfast (and Sirius and Remus hadn't even been downstairs yet, she noticed), she found Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny up in the twins' room. She attempted to join in their conversation, but her mind kept wandering to the plans she had set in place the night before. Several times, in fact, Ginny had to wave her hands in front of Hermione's eyes, having found her gazing absently into space again.

"Hermione, I think the nargles have got you," teased the younger girl, after the fourth such episode.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, Ginny, I guess I'm just missing Mum and Dad," she answered, inventing a reason for her spacey behavior as well as an excuse to get a little time alone. "Maybe I should go write them a letter and wish them a Happy Christmas and tell them how I'm doing. Excuse me, everybody, please."

Back in her room, she did compose a short note to her parents, so she would have something to send off by owl. But then she pulled out a blank piece of parchment and wrote the words "Lesson Plans" in large letters across the top. Then she jotted down some ideas for how she, Remus, and Sirius could spend their available nights. Snogging, to be sure – and would one night be enough to focus on that? Maybe one night for kissing on the mouth, one night for kissing most anywhere else on the body… Then what should be next after that? There were so many avenues to explore.

It took Hermione most of an hour to develop a general outline to propose when she met with her research partners again at midnight. She folded the parchment carefully and hid it under her mattress. Then she rolled and sealed the letter to her parents, and went back upstairs to ask Harry if she could borrow Hedwig for the delivery.

"I don't know if you're ready yet, Hermione," teased Fred.

George chimed in, of course. "You jotted that note so fast, you probably left out a detail or two."

"Sorry, guys," she sighed, "but it took awhile to find just the right words. I had to strike a delicate balance between saying I miss them and wish I could be with them and saying I am having a lovely time here with you lot. The note needed to sound happy, but not TOO happy. Anyway, now that's done, I should be able to focus better."

And in fact, now that she had her lesson plan ideas organized on paper, she found she was much better able to pay attention to her friends. In fact, Ginny only had to call her back to Earth twice more during the entire afternoon.

* * *

At midnight, she returned to the library, with the folded parchment tucked into her pocket. Sirius and Remus were waiting, as usual, and had taken the liberty of conjuring three glasses and summoning the firewhiskey. They smiled broadly at her as she opened the door. Their twin grins made her feel so giddy she almost skipped into the room, and Hermione was not generally a skipper by nature. 

Remus rose to welcome her with a hug. "You look rested and ready!"

She giggled, and really – unless she'd been drinking – Hermione wasn't generally a giggler by nature, either. But she was feeling almost drunk with the dizzying, yet promising, prospects of the next several nights.

"I guess that makes three of us, then," said Sirius, hugging her, too. "In fact, I think Moony may be a bit more ready than is strictly necessary. I kept finding him today jotting down ideas for lesson plans! He may be putting more effort into this than he did into planning lessons for Defense Against the Dark Arts classes two years ago, Hermione. I keep telling him to relax, it'll all be fine if we just go with the flow, but he can't help himself. Can you, baby?" He slipped an arm around Remus's waist and gave him a teasing squeeze.

Remus shrugged, good-naturedly.

Hermione laughed softly as she pulled her own notes from her pocket. "I'm sorry, Sirius, but I couldn't help myself, either! Remus, do you actually have written notes, and are they here with you, or upstairs? Should we compare notes and see if we can merge our two programs?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, sighed loudly, and poured himself a drink as Hermione and Remus traded pieces of parchment. Remus scanned down Hermione's list, nodding silently here, raising his eyebrows there, and finally giving a satisfied nod. When he raised his eyes to see how she was doing with his list, he was surprised to find her smiling in obvious amusement, and asked (somewhat worriedly), "Is something funny about my list, Hermione? I wasn't really going for comedy…"

She began to chuckle. "I'm sorry, Remus! There's nothing inherently funny about your list – it looks pretty good to me, actually. We covered most of the same topics, I think. It's just reading this list reminded me of a song."

"I've had a look at Moony's list, sweetheart, and I must know what song it could possibly remind you of. I'm pretty sure I'd remember hearing a song like that!"

"I'm not sure if you would have heard it, Sirius. Or you either, Remus. It's an old song, from a muggle musical. Have you ever heard of the play 'Hair'?"

Sirius frowned, searching his memory. "No, it doesn't sound familiar to me."

"It does sound vaguely familiar to me, Padfoot, but I thought it was about the Vietnam War. A song from 'Hair' is somehow relevant to my lesson plan ideas?"

"Actually, Remus, while the play is set during the Vietnam War, it's not so much about the war itself as it is about how the young people of the time coped – or did not cope, in many cases – with the fear and anger of the era. Many tried to dull their pain through sex and drugs, and to express their anger through rebellion against the values of the older generations. It's a pretty wild show, even by today's standards. The song your list reminded me of is called 'Sodomy.'"

This time it was Sirius's turn to choke on his firewhiskey, though not as dramatically as Remus had two nights earlier. He recovered quickly, and begged for more information. "There's a song called that? And you, for some reason, are familiar with it? This I've got to hear, Hermione."

"Well, I'm not much of a singer, but it goes something like this," she replied, and treated her companions to the short, but vivid song:

"Sodomy, fellatio, cunnilingus, pederasty.

Father, why do these words sound so nasty?

Masturbation can be fun!

Join the holy orgy, Kama Sutra, everyone!"

"Not that you included all those things on your list," she concluded, "but I just can't read the word 'fellatio' without that song popping into my head!"

Sirius laughed, but Remus was flustered. "Merlin, Hermione, what the hell kind of songs did you grow up with?" Remus rarely cursed.

"Sorry, Remus! That musical was very popular when my parents were young adults – the Broadway musical was made into a film the same year I was born, and I grew up listening to the soundtrack. It has all kinds of great songs on it. In fact… there's another one you both might appreciate entitled 'Black Boys.' It's actually about men with black skin, not men NAMED Black. The white women in the play sing it: it's one of two songs in the play about interracial love, which at that time was still fairly taboo. Anyway, even though it's not really about your family, Sirius, I think Remus might find the lyrics still apply!"

"An ode to the power and beauty of the Black family males, eh? Well, not my brother. Or my father. Okay, just me, I guess. Let's hear it, Hermione!"

So Hermione cleared her throat and sang once more for her friends:

"Black boys are delicious  
Chocolate flavored love  
Licorice lips like candy  
Keep my cocoa handy  
I have such a sweet tooth  
When it comes to love

Once I tried a diet  
Of quiet, rest, no sweets  
But I went nearly crazy  
And I went clearly crazy  
Because I really craved for  
My chocolate flavored treats

Black boys are nutritious  
Black boys fill me up  
Black boys are so damn yummy  
They satisfy my tummy  
I have such a sweet tooth  
When it comes to love  
Black black black black  
black black black black  
Black boys!"

Sirius applauded loudly. "You're absolutely right, Hermione! Moony does love his chocolate!"

"In my defense, chocolate is a well known mood enhancer, and it is therefore restorative for me after each full moon."

"Yes, darling," teased Sirius, "but what excuse do you have the rest of the month?"

Remus pulled a face at Sirius, and changed the subject. "Back to these songs, Hermione – I still find it surprising that your parents would have their little girl listening to songs about sodomy and fellatio! Did you understand the lyrics?"

"Well, not when I was really little. I guess I was probably about 9 years old when I started to get curious about what some of those words meant. And of course, I'm pretty good at finding information in books, especially since my parents' library included the 'Kama Sutra' mentioned in that song as well as 'The Joy of Sex.' I read them both cover to cover. As I said, I have plenty of theoretical knowledge, lots of book learning, but not much in the way of practical experience."

"I don't know those two books, Hermione, but I certainly can agree with the title of the second one," said Sirius, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at Remus.

"Oh, they're great books. The 'Kama Sutra' is a fairly exhaustive treatise on sex, though it includes some sexual positions that look really improbable. 'The Joy of Sex' doesn't feature quite as many positions, but it does manage to include a small section on the use of the big toe in foreplay, complete with an illustration!"

"What have we gotten ourselves into, Professor," Sirius asked Remus in mock alarm. "I'm thinking our little student may wind up teaching US a few things!"

Remus just shook his head, as if trying to erase a mental image involving a big toe. "Yes, Sirius, this is bound to be a fascinating couple of weeks. Hermione's suggested lesson plans include not just the basics, but a whole unit on props, including toys, food, clothing, and bondage!"

"Well, then," Sirius replied, straight-faced, "since there's so much ground to cover, I suggest we get started right away."

"I agree," said Remus, "but might I suggest we move upstairs to your room, Sirius? I just think we'd be more comfortable there."

"Excellent plan, Moony. See you up there, Hermione!" And he grabbed Remus by the arm, turned on the spot and disappeared.

She sighed, grabbed the firewhiskey, and made the trek up the stairs to Sirius's bedroom. When she pushed open the door, she found Remus pinned to the wall by Sirius, who was grinding against him, and snogging him passionately. She stopped in her tracks, and her mouth formed a perfect "O" as the firewhiskey bottle dropped to the floor. Luckily, the Persian rug softened its landing somewhat, and it didn't shatter. Sirius came up for air, and Hermione said breathlessly, "That looked good. I hope I get to try that sometime!"

Sirius laughed, as he walked over to pick up the bottle, using a quick Tergeo spell to clean up the bit that had spilled. "To initiate a kiss like that one, my dear, you have to have supreme confidence. If you have any hesitation, it won't come off properly. Isn't that right, Moony?"

Remus was still leaning on the wall, as if for support. "Listen to the man, Hermione," he advised. "He knows what he's doing." And he straightened his shirt, brushed the hair out of his eyes, and pushed himself off the wall to join them.

Sirius handed Remus the bottle, with a wink. He took Hermione by the hand, and pulled her the rest of the way into the room, closing the door behind her. Then he backed her up against the door, putting his hands on the door on either side of her face. He gazed steadily into her eyes and moved in slowly until barely an inch separated his body from hers. She felt as if her skin was on fire with the heat of him so close to her. A soft moan escaped her lips, which wanted his so badly she could barely breathe.

"Give it to her, Sirius, before she faints," Remus called from across the room, where he was pouring himself a drink.

Sirius smiled, and brushed Hermione's lips with his own, still not touching any other part of her. Her eyes closed, and she moaned again, arching her body toward him, aching for contact. He slipped one arm around her waist, and pulled himself close to her, finally, and kissed her deeply and hungrily. Hermione felt as though she were melting. But suddenly he was pulling back, and the room began slowly to swim back into focus.

Remus was near her now (when had that happened?), taking her hand, and leading her gently to the bed. He brushed her hair away from her neck, leaned in close, and whispered into her ear, "See? I told you he knows what he's doing!" She nodded, silently, still too dazed to speak.

"I'm not sure where this falls into your lesson plans, you two, but this seems like a good time to make a point about style. Pretty much anything on either of your lists can be done hard or soft, or fast or slow, or anywhere in between. The trick, and I don't know if this can be taught, exactly, is in reading your lover's signals to know what he needs at the moment."

Hermione turned her eyes to Remus, who explained, "When you walked in, you just saw that we were up against a wall, kissing. You didn't see how we got there, because I'm guessing you were probably still in the library when he slammed me against that wall and started kissing me rather forcefully. With you, Sirius wound up in largely the same position, but he moved in on you all slow and seductive, until you were practically begging for him to kiss you."

"What made you slam Remus into the wall instead of coming at him softly like you did me?"

"Partly just because we've been together so long and I know what he likes, and Moony does like it a little rough sometimes," Sirius said, winking at Remus. "But he also likes it gentle sometimes. I'm not exactly sure what made me so aggressive with him just now."

"I think I know, Padfoot," Remus said quietly. "Hermione, please don't take this the wrong way, because Sirius and I both are very interested in our joint project here, and have no intention of changing our minds. But even so, it's strange for us to be including a third person in our relationship, even for just this short period. I think Sirius was so forceful with me because he wanted to assure me of the intensity of his need for me, to sort of claim ownership of me. Sirius and I didn't really get together, you know, physically, until our seventh year of school. Before that, he had quite a bit of experience with girls, and I… well, I didn't. Anyway, I think Sirius wanted me to know that even though he's going to be with a girl again, now, that I don't have anything to worry about. And I think that even though we all understand that this arrangement is temporary, some small part of me did want that reassurance from Sirius, and I was happy to be claimed by him in such a fierce way."

The two men's eyes met, and Sirius sat on the other side of Remus, taking his hand. "I love how you understand me better than I understand myself, Moony."

Hermione asked quietly, "And how did you know, Sirius, exactly how to approach me?"

"Sweetheart, you're not mine, so it would have been presumptuous of me. Besides," he smirked, "if I had thrown you up against the wall like I did Moony, I'd have scared the hell out of you. You're still a little nervous about this plan, yourself, and you need to feel like you are in control, at least a little bit, so I let you come to me. Of course, first I made it so you didn't have anywhere else to go!"

"Yes, I see," she said, nodding. "Very effective illustration, Sirius."

* * *

A/N: I thought the story was over after chapter 7, but I've gotten many requests for more, and finally something started to gel for me. So here's chapter 8, and there will be at least one, possibly two more chapters. I will NOT go into a blow by blow (ha!) description of the next 2.5 weeks (sorry, to all you smut-fiends out there who want the details – please feel free to use your imaginations to fill in the gaps), but I do have a few more scenes I want to explore before I close up this story for good. 

Reviews make me happy! Let me know if you have any burning questions I need to answer before I wrap up this story. If I get enough questions to address, I may need to write some as-yet-unforeseen chapters.

Song lyrics are from "Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical," lyrics by James Rado & Gerome Ragni, music by Galt MacDermot. Soundtrack available on the RCA label, original release date 1979. And yes, The Joy of Sex really does discuss and illustrate the use of the big toe.


	9. Chapter 9: Discoveries

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 9: Discoveries

* * *

Plans, as it turns out, are made to be broken… or at least modified. And thank goodness for that! 

Hermione was a little worried about Remus, and asked him if he was sure he wanted to continue. To answer her concerns, he kissed her soundly.

The trio discovered quickly that snogging, while enjoyable in pairs, doesn't really work as well in threes. But they all agreed that since they'd done some snogging on Christmas Eve and Christmas night, and also since Sirius had employed kissing in his vivid illustration that style was a factor not to be overlooked, it would be okay to move on to the next lesson. After a little discussion and consulting of both Hermione's plans and Remus's plans, they decided they would add kissing, licking, nuzzling, nibbling, and general caressing of anything above the waist (though Hermione said that at least for this night, she'd like to keep her brassiere in place). Giving each of them not just a wider canvass to work on, but also a wider palette to choose from, made the whole arrangement work much better.

During the next hour or so, Hermione became convinced that she must have a fairy godmother or a benevolent genie working on her behalf, as several of her wishes came true. Sirius did kiss – and nibble – the length of her neck, just as he'd described when they were co-creating their fantasy a couple of nights earlier. And she did get to trace along the scars on Remus's torso. Remus was sensitive about his scars at first, but both Hermione and Sirius insisted that they were beautiful, and together they applied hands and tongues to make their point. Hermione was surprised at how responsive Remus's nipples were, but Sirius said most men were sensitive there. In the spirit of research, of course, Remus and Hermione next turned their attention to Sirius's chest. He didn't have scars to trace, but his extensive tattoos provided their tongues with a rollercoaster ride of swirls and flourishes. And yes, his nipples were sensitive as well, so that made 100 percent of her test subjects. Hermione reveled in their smooth, muscular chests. Sirius was almost entirely hairless, but Remus had some tiny tufts near the nipples, and a small patch of hair right between the pectorals. Both men also had a line of hair running from their navels down into their trousers, which she found intriguing – much the same way she found herself wondering just how far down Sirius's tattoos went.

Eventually, Hermione found herself kissing and nuzzling Sirius's taut abdomen and playing with that trail of hair with one hand, while Remus was nibbling on her earlobes and wrapping his arms around her to caress her breasts through the thin lace of her bra. Her moans and whimpers became more frequent and louder as her arousal built higher and higher. When Remus gave her a playful nip on the shoulder, she cried out.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said, alarmed by her cry. "I was trying to be gentle!"

"You didn't hurt me, Remus – everything you are doing is fantastic."

Sirius, concerned as well, raised himself on his elbows to check her for bite marks. He didn't find any, but she looked as though she was about to cry. "What's the matter, Hermione," he asked softly.

And then she did start to cry, though she seemed more angry than sad. "I feel like I'm going to explode," she almost shouted at them. "I want to throw one of you down, tear off your pants, climb on top of you, and ride you like a thoroughbred racehorse, and at this particular moment I don't even care which of you it is!"

"Sweet Mother of Merlin," said Sirius, in a tone of awe.

Remus stroked her arm, attempting to soothe her. "Hermione, I think maybe we've reached your limit for tonight. I know that part of you wants to do that, but that you would be upset with yourself afterwards. Sirius was right earlier, you need to feel you are in control of your body right now, or you will wind up getting scared. I suspect that as you get more comfortable with us and with your own sexual response, you'll feel better about losing control, but for now… as much as it pains me to say it… maybe you've had enough for one night. Are you going to be okay? You've got so much passion built up that it's coming out in tears!"

Hermione was clinging to him, crying on his shoulder, but attempted to stifle her sobs and regain control. After a few minutes she was only sniffling, though her body occasionally shuddered as another wave of tension quaked her. "You're right, of course, Remus. I think I need to call it quits for tonight. You two please carry on without me, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Seriously, sweetheart," worried Sirius, "are you going to be able to sleep after getting so worked up?"

Hermione smiled ruefully as she stood and reached for her t-shirt. "Oh yeah, I'll just have to take matters into my own hands, as I've done for the past few nights. I'll be okay. Thanks for understanding, guys. Thanks for everything. It's been lovely, despite my outburst."

As she was leaving, she heard Sirius tell Remus, "I knew it! She's going to be a screamer. Told you that silencing charm was a good idea!" (Approximately 48 hours later, Hermione proved Sirius right beyond the shadow of a doubt, as she experienced her first – and later that night, her second – non-self-induced orgasm.)

* * *

The next several nights were a bit of a blur. Sleep deprivation probably contributed to this impression. As tired as she was, Hermione found that her energy level jumped up around bedtime, as her body anticipated the excitement of the next few hours. And being tired wasn't stopping her from learning quite a lot. 

For example, on the first night that hands were given free rein, she vastly enlarged her repertoire of grips. She had started out holding Sirius the way she would hold a tennis racquet, but soon developed considerably more finesse.

She never did learn if Remus's generous girth was due to his lycanthropy, but she was able to answer one of her questions of several nights earlier. Question: Were all men that big? Answer: A firm (she giggled to herself) NO. Sirius was more the size she had been expecting, based on the book-based research from her youth, and her limited practical experience with a muggle boy from back home last summer. She was also able to solve the mystery of Sirius's tattoos. Answer: ALL the way down!

The following night, Hermione's mouth had permission to go wherever it liked. Mmmm, and it liked to roam. Men's bodies were just so different from women's, and she had never really had the opportunity to just explore at her leisure: licking and sucking, cupping and stroking, and – she couldn't help herself – a little biting here and there. Remus's inner thighs were creamy and delicious, and both men had backsides as firm and round as crisp apples. Perhaps those muscles were so well shaped from the considerable hours each spent running around on all fours in canine form.

She brought another part of her fantasy with Sirius to life, as she took him slowly, but entirely, into her mouth. She loved the way it made his toes curl. Sadly, she found she was physically unable to perform the same maneuver on Remus.

Sirius came to the rescue. "I know, Hermione. Sometimes I think I should have learned to turn into a snake, instead of a dog." He laughed at her blank expression. "So I could unhinge my jaw, darling, and give this big boy what he deserves! But here, let me show you the best I think we can manage, short of snake-dom." And he demonstrated how to employ one's hands to accommodate Remus's abundant assets. He stopped to let Hermione take over again.

She thanked him sincerely, then noted, "It's a good thing my parents have no idea what I'm trying to do here: they'd be so concerned about temporomandibular joint disorder!" When Sirius looked scandalized, she added, "Well, they ARE dentists, you know. Proper jaw care is very important to them."

Remus groaned.

* * *

The night after that, they decided it was time to try playing with food. They met first in the kitchen, to raid the icebox and the cupboard. 

"Let's each pick one thing to bring back upstairs," said Sirius, pawing through the groceries Molly had stocked in his kitchen.

Remus, of course, pulled out a large bottle of chocolate sauce.

Hermione eventually decided upon whipped cream.

Sirius finally surfaced and held up his choice with a giant grin.

"BACON?" Hermione and Remus nearly shouted.

"What? I was planning to cook it first…"

"Sorry, Padfoot," said Remus, "but I can't imagine how I'd manage to feel sexy with pig flesh – cooked or not – wrapped around any part of my anatomy."

Hermione agreed wholeheartedly. "Bacon IS delicious, Sirius, but it's just not sexy. And you were the one giving US lessons about style!"

"All right then, I guess maybe I'm just hungry," Sirius acquiesced.

"Make yourself a sandwich, then, and pick something else to bring upstairs, will you?"

"Yes, Moony, my darling. Hey, why don't you pick something for me, while I make myself a snack?"

Remus dug around in the cabinets again and came up with a jar of honey. "Better?"

"Much," said Hermione.

"Mphwph," said Sirius, his mouth full of sandwich. Hermione and Remus took it as approval, and they all headed upstairs together.

As they opened the door into Sirius's room, Remus voiced a concern. "You know, Sirius, we're going to get pretty sticky and messy with this stuff."

"So? We've got wands, don't we? We can clean up quickly and easily."

"Yes, but wouldn't it be more fun to clean up the muggle way, with a bath?"

"Ah, I see where you're going with this, Moony. Perhaps we could take tonight's activities into my parents' room – the master bathroom has a Jacuzzi big enough for all three of us."

"Won't Kreacher react badly if he discovers that we are in your mum's room?"

Sirius laughed. "Yes, I imagine he would! Hermione, you kill me. As overtired as you must be, and with all these delicious distractions, you still manage to concern yourself with Kreacher's feelings!"

"Still, Padfoot," Remus chided, "you know she's right. We'll have to put some protective enchantments around the room to make sure Kreacher doesn't decide to pop in unexpectedly. We don't want him throwing a fit and letting everyone know what we've been doing all these nights!"

"You're right, both of you," Sirius agreed. "Go ahead and do the protective charms for us, Mr. Defense Professor. As much as I'd love to shock that little toerag into a heart attack," (and here Hermione scowled at him), "it does make more rational sense to just keep him out. But I do wish there was some way I could rub this in my mother's face, you know, posthumously."

"I can see what you mean, Sirius," said Hermione, letting herself get over the insult to Kreacher because she was amused by the insult to Sirius's mum. "But please promise me you won't say anything to her portrait about this! I get enough abuse from her as it is."

"I know," said Sirius, "and I'm sorry that happens to you. I won't mention it, I promise. But wouldn't it serve her right to know that I had both a muggle-born witch and a werewolf in her bed and her tub? Oh, the shame! The horror!"

"If it were possible for her to die twice, I'm sure that would kill her, Padfoot," sighed Remus. Then he winked at Sirius, and said to Hermione in a stage whisper, "He always was a rebel. You don't think he likes us just because it would upset his family, do you?"

"Sirius, you're such a bad boy," she teased, as they pushed open the door to the master suite. It was decorated all in Slytherin colors, but it would do nicely. The bed was large, and a small love seat and armchair were near the fireplace. The master bath was well equipped, and Sirius dug out some fluffy towels and stacked them by the tub.

"It's been cleaned along with the rest of the house, so we shouldn't find any nasty surprises in here," Sirius reassured Hermione and Remus. "But I do think it needs one thing." And with a wave of his wand, he changed the colors to a more Gryffindor-friendly red and gold theme. "Better?"

"Definitely," said Remus.

"Excellent," said Sirius, "because now that I'm done with my sandwich, I'm ready for dessert – I'm thinking something with chocolate sauce and whipped cream."

"Make mine a double," said Hermione.

* * *

A/N: OK, that one took me forever to write. Hope it worked for you. Reviewers get to have any character they want for dessert – toppings optional. 


	10. Chapter 10: Perfect Togetherness

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 10: Perfect Togetherness

* * *

Almost a week had passed when they got to the part of the lesson plans that introduced coitus. Hermione was practically glowing with anticipation, as she headed to the master bedroom suite. (They had all had so much fun in the Jacuzzi the night they played with food that they decided to make it their regular meeting spot.) 

She pushed open the door with a bounce in her step, but stopped bouncing when she saw the serious expression both men wore. She could almost feel the smile sliding off her face. "Oh no," she sighed. "I knew it. You're having second thoughts, because I'm a girl." She swallowed hard, and knew it was not time to be selfish, no matter how much she'd been looking forward to this. "It's okay, you guys, if you want to end it now. I really don't want to make things too weird for you."

"No, Hermione," protested Sirius. "You've got it all wrong! If we were feeling that way, do you think we'd have come this far?"

"Then what's the matter? This, as I know you both know, is the night we were finally going to go all the way, and for me, at least, that's a pretty exciting prospect. But you're both looking so – well, almost worried!"

"We're fine, Hermione," Remus assured her, "but it's a big deal losing your virginity. We want it to be perfect for you, and we can't quite figure out how to go about it. I mean, obviously, it's not something both of us can do together – it's going to have to be one of us or the other. But we both want to be involved, to be part of this special event for you, so that when you look back at this night you'll think of us both…"

Hermione felt she might faint with relief. She kissed Remus tenderly, and then did the same to Sirius. "You guys are so sweet to want to give me the perfect first time. But you can relax: I'm not a virgin, you adorable goofballs!"

Sirius looked confused. "But you said you had a lot of theoretical knowledge and no practical experience, didn't you?"

"No, I said I had very little practical experience. I lost my virginity about six months ago, over the summer, with a muggle boy from my neighborhood. We were good friends, growing up, and we've missed each other while I've been away at Hogwarts. We were catching up with each other over pizza and a movie one night, and things somehow took a romantic turn. One thing led to another, and I barely got home before my parents woke up the next morning. It was a sweet experience, but not earth-shatteringly good."

"Hermione, you should have told us you were seeing someone," Remus protested.

"I'm not 'seeing' him, Remus. We both agreed that it was probably a one-time thing, as our lives have been heading in such different directions. He's got a girl at his school that he's interested in, and I… well, my future will likely include helping in the fight against Voldemort. I couldn't bring my friend into my life with that hanging over me. Maybe once it's all over and done, if he's still single and I'm still single, we might give something a try. But for now, we're still just good friends."

"Damn, Hermione," Remus cursed again, for the second time in a week. "I hate that Voldemort is affecting you like that. You should be able to have a future, and let yourself fall in love with boys from back home if you want to."

"I know, Remus. But the coming fight does cast a shadow over everything, and things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. You guys have been through this before, with the first war. So you know how I'm feeling – I don't know if I'll even be alive a year from now. I think that's one of the reasons why I let myself lose my virginity over the summer, and why I have been so excited about our project. I want to experience everything now, just in case I don't get a chance later."

"Well, that thought is a serious buzz-kill, Hermione," Sirius complained. "We ought to make a rule that no one can mention Voldemort while we're in this room." Then he brightened. "But the good news is that if you're no longer a virgin, that takes a little bit of the pressure off of tonight, eh?"

She laughed. "It does, Sirius. Again, you guys are sweet to try to make it perfect for me, but it's really not necessary. I'm having such a great time with you both that no matter what we do tonight, I'm sure it will be perfect."

"However, it doesn't solve our logistical problem for tonight," said Remus. "The thing about 'going all the way,' as you so daintily put it, Hermione, is that the key feature of the act can really only be accomplished by two people at a time. Have you any thoughts, Hermione, about how you'd like to proceed?"

"Naturally, I have given the matter some consideration. And…I really don't want to have to choose one of you, because I don't want there to be any hurt feelings! We've still got a week and a half left, of course – plenty of time for all kinds of combinations, right?" She moved next to Remus and took his hands in hers. "Remus, darling, I hope you don't mind terribly, but I think it might be better if it's Sirius this time. You're just so… I mean, it's really…" Her eyes darted to his crotch, then back to his face. He blushed, as comprehension dawned. "Besides," she continued, "you were the one who gave me my first orgasm, so maybe it's Sirius's turn anyway…"

Remus's eyes widened in disbelief. "That was your first orgasm, ever?"

"Well, no – I guess I meant the first one that wasn't self-induced!"

"Oh, so your friend didn't…"

"No, he didn't, but really it was fine."

"His first time, too?"

"Yes, Remus, his first time, too. So, are you okay with it being Sirius this time?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Sirius, you okay?"

"I'm okay if you're okay!"

"I'm okay, didn't I just say so?" Then Remus smacked himself on the forehead. "Contraception! Sirius, we've been so busy wanting to make things perfect for Hermione's first time that we forgot to do anything about contraception. Hermione, there's a charm, but I don't know it. Sirius, you've got lots more hetero experience than I do. Do you know the contraception charm?"

Sirius scrunched up his face in concentration, digging through his mental filing cabinets, but coming up empty.

"Don't worry about it, Sirius. I'm way ahead of you, Remus. I researched the contraception charm on Christmas Day. It's all handled already."

"She's resourceful, this one," Sirius said, approvingly.

"Right then," she said, but she was still at a bit of a loss for how to proceed. She certainly didn't want to kick Remus out of the room and have sex with his lover – that just seemed wrong in so many ways. And yet, having him stay and observe seemed like it would be uncomfortable for everyone. (Would he, afterwards, hold up a scorecard, like an Olympic judge?) She looked into his amber eyes, still probing to make sure he wasn't upset. He appeared to be lost in thought, which she thought was probably not a good sign. But then he smiled, a genuine smile, at both Hermione and Sirius.

"I've got an idea," he said. "Why don't you two go take a bath together and get a bit more cozy? I want to make a few preparations out here for you."

Curious, but thankful that someone had suggested a concrete next step, Hermione nodded and took Sirius by the hand. They filled the Jacuzzi with warm water and bubbles, disrobed, and slid in on opposite sides of the tub. Hermione moved closer to Sirius, raised an eyebrow at him, and asked, "You nervous?"

"Nope," he said. "You?"

"Nope," she said, and moved even closer to him. She had backed him up against the side of the tub, but wasn't touching him.

His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her to him. "You are an excellent student, Hermione," he rumbled gruffly into her ear. "I see you're letting me come to you."

"Yes," she chuckled, "but first I made sure you had nowhere else to go."

Sirius kissed her, moving his hands over her wet and slippery back.

A minute later, or it might have been ten, there came a knock at the bathroom door. "Ready when you are," Remus called from the bedroom.

When Hermione and Sirius emerged, he with a towel wrapped around his waist, and she with a towel wrapped under her arms, they gasped at the transformation Remus had wrought in the room. The bed was now covered in silky ivory-colored sheets, and a bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes were on the bedside table. The room was lit only by candlelight – dozens of candles floated throughout the room.

"Remus, it's lovely," Hermione sighed. "It's perfect."

Sirius snickered. "Perfect if you want to pretend you're getting laid at the Hogwarts Welcoming Feast!"

"Oh Sirius, I guess it does look a bit like that! But I still think it's wonderful. Thank you so much, Remus."

"You're welcome," he said, edging slowly toward the door. "I just wanted to make it special for you."

"Remus," she said, softly. "Please don't go. How could it be perfect without you here?"

"Are you sure, Hermione?"

"I just know I don't want you to leave. Can't we make this work with all three of us, somehow? I know you said the key feature of the act can really only be accomplished by two people at a time, but there is certainly more to the act than just that key feature, wouldn't you agree?"

"I do agree." He looked relieved. "And if you both want me to stay, I'll stay. Sirius?"

"Stay, Moony. Please."

"Okay," he said, "I'll stay. But I think we're going to need one more thing."

"What's that, Remus?"

"Another champagne flute, Hermione!" And he conjured a third.

"Excellent thinking, Moony," said Sirius, pouring champagne for each of them. "I propose a toast!"

"Why does that not surprise me, Padfoot?"

"To togetherness!"

"Hear, hear," Hermione and Remus cheered.

"But Moony, darling, the third champagne glass was not the only thing that needed to be fixed," Sirius said, winking at his partner.

"What's wrong now, Padfoot?"

"You need to lose some of those clothes."

"Sirius, you are absolutely right," said Hermione. "Let me fix this grievous error for you." She unbuttoned Remus's shirt, and tossed it onto the floor with a flourish. She turned to grin at Sirius. "Better?"

"More," Sirius growled.

Remus kicked off his shoes, as Hermione unbuttoned his trousers and slid them down his legs. He stepped out of them and pulled off his socks, and they tossed all three items into a pile with his shirt. She turned to Sirius again. "Better?"

"Almost perfect," he smirked.

Moments later, Remus's boxers were added to the pile, along with two slightly damp towels.

"Better?" Remus teased, as all three climbed onto the bed.

"Perfect," Sirius sighed contentedly.

* * *

As it turns out, they were able to make things work quite well with all three of them participating. In fact, they made things work quite well again and again, over the next several nights. And although no one did mention Voldemort again in the master bedroom suite, or the potential that any of them might not see the next Christmas, they all threw themselves into the project with heightened intensity. Hermione was insatiable in her quest for experience and knowledge, and in her desire for both men. She would often wring one man dry, then move on to the other while the first one was recovering. She was on top, on the bottom, and in the middle (how she loved being a Hermione-sandwich!). The men took her (and, on frequent occasion, each other) from the front, the back, and the side, and every angle in between. The trio experimented with hard and soft, fast and slow, tender, teasing, rough, and rowdy. They tried everything on Hermione's list, everything on Remus's list, and anything else that occurred to them along the way. Their favorites, they tried twice. 

Before long, all three of them were showing definite signs of wear and tear from their long nights of strenuous activity. Rather than agree to a night off (which Sirius couldn't believe he was suggesting anyway!), Hermione limped to the library for more research, and brewed up a restorative draught that would have made Severus Snape proud. (She hoped it would turn up on her Potions OWL.) They took to drinking this potion nightly, instead of firewhiskey or champagne. It looked a little like liquefied seaweed, and really, one didn't want to think about the actual ingredients that went into it, but it didn't taste bad at all, and the results were definitely worth it, as it allowed them to carry on with their carnal pursuits.

"Thank goodness you're on our side, Hermione," Sirius said after a particularly inventive, vigorous session. They were all in the tub, cleaning up and recovering.

"What do you mean by that, Sirius," she murmured, idly piling bubbles into a pyramid on Remus's belly, who was floating on his back.

"Just that if you were to employ your considerable ingenuity and tenacity for the powers of evil, rather than the powers of good, we wouldn't have a chance. As it is, with you on our side, I'm feeling pretty confident. You're like a secret weapon."

Remus barked a laugh, sank, and came up sputtering.

"Why thank you, Sirius," said Hermione. "I certainly have been feeling powerful lately. I like the idea of being a secret weapon."

"He's totally right, you know," agreed Remus, wiping the soapy water from his eyes. "You are the most single-minded, determined, tireless person I think I've ever met. You won't stop at anything to get what you want. And we already told you we think you're the brightest witch of your age. As soon as you're of age, we've got to induct you into the Order, no matter what Molly says!"

She glowed with pride. Or maybe she was glowing from all the sex. Either way, Hermione couldn't remember ever feeling better in her entire life.

* * *

"I think you two are ruining me for other men," Hermione told Remus and Sirius, one night. 

Sirius seemed pleased with that assessment, but Remus looked genuinely concerned. "What makes you say so?"

"I had a very alarming dream last night after I left you. I was back at school, and Viktor had come to visit me. We were walking together on the grounds, and next thing I knew we were leaning up against that beech tree by the lake, snogging. He whispered in my ear, 'Hermy-own-ninny, I haff missed you so much. I must haff you in my bed, make luff to you. Come with me to my room in Hogsmeade.' And I looked at him stupidly and said, 'But we don't have enough people!'"

Remus and Sirius collapsed in a pile on the bed, laughing.

"It's not funny, you two!" But she started to chuckle, too, and the next thing she knew, they had each grabbed one of her hands and pulled her onto the bed.

"It IS funny!" Sirius insisted. "You WILL laugh!" And they proceeded to tickle her until she had laughed herself breathless.

When none of them could laugh any more, and they were lying in a heap together, Hermione reached out to give each of them a squeeze, on whatever part of their anatomies she could comfortably reach. She sighed. "I'm really going to miss you guys when I'm back at school."

* * *

A/N: Reviewers: If you had to choose Remus or Sirius for your first time, who would it be? Or could you have your cake, and eat it too, somehow? (Oh, and now I'm hungry for cake…) 

Three technical notes:

1. I finally looked it up, and discovered that really when we are toasting we are saying Hear, Hear – I'd done it wrong ('here, here') through several chapters before catching this error. I went back and corrected it in the earlier chapters, so – my apologies to fellow nitpickers if you read my mistake and groaned. (As I do, when I read that someone's interest has been 'peaked' or 'peeked' instead of piqued.)

2. My timeline for this story has been based on the HP Lexicon's timeline, which shows the gang heading back to Hogwarts for a winter term starting on January 13. They do note that if previous years are a guide, they would point toward the term starting on January 6, but that Harry mentions at one point that it's going to be a three-week break, so they went with the 13th. I went back to OotP and reread to see where Harry says that, and I believe they have misinterpreted his remark. He's at the DA meeting, and I believe he is saying it will be three weeks until the next time the DA can get back together, not that their holiday is three weeks long (which would make it four weeks between DA meetings!). But you know what? I like the '3 weeks of holiday' plan better, as otherwise my trio would be a bit rushed in their explorations. This way they can take their time and try everything. So the 2.5 week research project will stand!

3. Even in the wizarding world, contraception is obviously a concern – since apparently even the males can get knocked up, in many fanfics! But – I've not yet seen a fanfic where the characters are terribly concerned about contracting any STDs. If it bothers you that none of my characters are insisting on condoms, even though H has recently slept with someone else, just imagine that there is an STD-prevention charm as well, and that they've been using it all along, OK?


	11. Chapter 11: Suspicion

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 11: Suspicion

* * *

Late the next morning, Hermione was in the loo washing her face and hoping that no one had noticed she slept in yet again. A knock sounded at the door, and she opened it to find Ginny in the hallway with a cryptic expression on her face. 

"Hi, Ginny, I was just finishing up."

But Ginny entered, closed the door, and stood with her back against the door and her arms crossed over her chest. Her brown eyes were flashing with – could it be anger?

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," said the redhead. "You're having a fling with someone at Headquarters."

"Ginny!" Hermione protested, trying not to give anything away with her facial expression. She had been told once she had the opposite of a "poker face." "What on earth would make you say something like that?"

"You go to bed when I go to bed, if not before. You wake up long after I wake up. You SHOULD be well rested, but you're exhausted all the time."

"I'm just not sleeping well. I'm anxious about schoolwork, and OWL exams are getting closer every day. I'm unprepared, and it's giving me nightmares." There was a bit of truth in her story. All this time she'd been studying sex with Remus and Sirius, she could – and probably should – have been studying for OWLs.

"You must be sneaking out of bed to meet someone," said Ginny, ignoring Hermione's excuses, "and it must be someone you think I wouldn't approve of, or you'd have told me. I know it's not Harry or Ron, because Ron tells me how Harry still thrashes around with nightmares most nights, and Harry complains to me about Ron's snoring, so I know THEY'RE both in bed at night!"

"You haven't told them what you think I'm doing, have you?" Hermione tried not to sound as panicked as she felt.

Ginny ignored the question. "Fred and George were both suspects, except that they don't look like they're missing out on sleep," she continued.

"Really, Ginny, you think I'd get mixed up with either one of those two trouble makers?" Well, they probably would be pretty fun, and they weren't too hard on the eyes, but still… They'd turn the whole thing into a joke, somehow.

"In fact," Ginny persevered, still ignoring Hermione's questions, "the only two blokes who definitely look like they are missing sleep are Sirius and Professor Lupin, so it must be one of them. I just can't figure out which one, yet."

Hermione's face felt hot. "Well, you won't, because your initial hypothesis is flawed – I'm not sneaking out to meet anyone." Oh, it was hard to lie so shamelessly to her friend.

"Yes, Hermione, you are. 'Cause I asked Fred and George to put a charm on our door to let me know when someone goes in or out, and last night, you left."

"Oh, Merlin, Ginny, what did you tell them?" Hermione suddenly noticed that she was still holding a wash towel, and that she was twisting it tightly. She dropped it into the hamper, as nonchalantly as she could manage, and sat down on the toilet lid.

"Just that I was worried about you being so exhausted, and maybe you were sleepwalking or something."

"I was just going to the kitchen for a bit of, erm, warm milk to help me sleep." Hermione was blushing furiously now, though at least this lie had some basis in truth. Had she not initially left her bed so many nights ago for just that purpose?

"You were gone a long time. I waited for you, but I fell back asleep before you returned."

"I must've dozed off at the kitchen table." Damn. Stupid, meddling redhead. Mind your own business.

"Uh huh. I still say you're messing around with a man old enough to be your father. I'm just glad it's not MY father."

"Ewwww! Your dad is like a dad to me! I could never do that!" Ewww. Plus, it would be the unwise witch who would ever cross Molly Weasley.

"Thank Merlin for small favors," Ginny said, bitterly. "But I still can't believe you won't tell me the truth, Hermione. I thought we were friends – good friends."

"We are, Gin, but sometimes even good friends need a little privacy. Can't you just let it drop?"

"Aha!" The brown eyes flashed with victory. "So it wasn't warm milk after all!"

"Yes, it was. Warm milk, that's all." It sounded lame, even to her own ears.

Ginny gave Hermione's shoulder a squeeze. "Just be careful, Hermione. Don't let the warm milk break your heart, okay?"

"Okay, Gin," sighed Hermione, thankful that this horribly uncomfortable confrontation seemed to be finally ending. "Thanks for being worried about me, but I'm really fine. I'm just not sleeping well."

"Want Mum to make you a sleeping draught?" Ginny gave her a wry smile.

"Erm, no, that's okay, Ginny. I don't need a sleeping draught. Once we're back at school and I can get back to my regular schedule and my familiar old four-poster, I'm sure I'll start sleeping better again."

"Uh huh. Hermione, just… Just take care of yourself." Ginny tried to give her a quick hug, but the older girl held her tight.

"Ginny," Hermione whispered into her friend's ear, "have Harry and Ron noticed anything – you know, about me being so tired lately?"

Ginny pulled back. She looked angry again, momentarily, but then softened. "No, not really. They have noticed that you're not bugging them about schoolwork as much as usual, but I think they're so grateful to be able to play chess in peace that they won't bother to look into it any deeper."

Hermione's whole body seemed to relax with relief. "Thanks, Gin. I'm glad they're not worried about me, too. I can take care of myself, and I don't want to get them involved."

"Like it or not, Hermione," Ginny's eyes flashed a warning, "they ARE involved – because they care about you. What happens to you will inevitably affect them. You know they'd both go to the end of the earth for you if you needed them. Play around with your 'warm milk' if you must, but don't you hurt either one of those boys, you hear me?" She turned abruptly and stomped out of the bathroom in a huff.

Tears of guilt pricked Hermione's eyes. She wasn't trying to hurt anybody. This had nothing to do with either Harry or Ron. But she knew how upset they would both be if they found out. Damn those nosey Weasley women, anyway.

* * *

Molly had been the first to recognize the symptoms for what they were. The morning after Hermione, Sirius, and Remus had their Welcoming Feast Sexcapade, as Sirius started calling it, Hermione had come down to breakfast quite late again, looking completely knackered. She sat down gingerly on the hard wooden chair, and stared blankly at the morning paper while she nursed her coffee. She noticed Mrs. Weasley watching her closely. Scrutinizing her. She tried to look innocent, a look she was finding harder and harder to pull off.

Mrs. Weasley offered a worried smile and a waffle. "Dear, are you well this morning?"

Hermione gratefully accepted the waffle, and reached for the syrup. "Never better, Mrs. Weasley," she answered, truthfully. Though she was tired from lack of sleep, and a bit sore from the pounding she'd taken from Sirius, she was happy and well.

"You seem a bit off, dear. Haven't you been sleeping?"

"Not as well as I do at school, I'm afraid."

"Is the bed not comfortable? You're moving like you're a bit achy. I'm sure I could make it a bit more firm or a bit softer, if it needs adjusting." The older witch had already drawn her wand, and was apparently ready to march upstairs and whip the poor bed into shape.

"No need, Mrs. Weasley. You can put your wand away. I'll be fine. I've actually been quite happy here, especially now that Mr. Weasley is making such progress. I'm so enjoying being with you and your family, Mrs. Weasley. As an only child, I don't usually get to spend Christmas with other kids." That's it, Hermione told herself, distract her!

It worked for a bit. Mrs. Weasley's kind smile returned immediately. She fussed over Hermione as she ate, and regaled her with stories from her childhood, Christmases spent with her own siblings. It looked as if Hermione had successfully deflected Molly's piercing gaze and penetrating questions, until Sirius and Remus strolled in twenty minutes later. Hermione was unable to suppress a happy smile, and the men grinned back at her too broadly before they moderated their reactions and greeted her more appropriately. They sat down at the table, rather closer to her than was advisable. Molly's forehead creased again as she took in the clues, and Hermione could almost see her putting two and two together and coming up with…three. Molly scowled at Sirius and Remus, banging their coffee mugs down on the table with unnecessary force.

She turned back to Hermione with an expression of deep concern. "Hermione, my dear," she said gently, but earnestly, "I want you to know that I think of you as a second daughter. If you ever need to talk to an adult about anything, Hermione," (her eyes flicked involuntarily toward the men) "I hope you know that you can always talk to me."

Hermione blushed with embarrassment and gratitude, in equal measures. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," she said sincerely. "I'll remember that." It was sweet that Mrs. Weasley thought of her as a daughter. But this was not a mother-daughter relationship that would ever include any discussion of her recent nocturnal activities.

After that morning, all three of them were more careful to act less chummy when they were in anyone else's company.

* * *

In the beginning, they had all thought they were too clever to be caught, and that the universe approved of their arrangement and therefore kept their secret for them. But little by little, they were realizing that the end was coming. It started when Molly got suspicious that morning, and continued with Ginny's accusation. Then Kreacher finally reappeared, and quickly developed a pretty good idea of what was going on in his mistress's old bedroom. Sirius ordered him to keep his ideas to himself. All three of them realized that if they were to keep up this arrangement much longer, they would almost certainly get caught, which would be disastrous. So, although none of them wanted their adventure to end, they found themselves counting down with some anticipation. Just five more nights, they'd say. Just five more nights is all we've got to get away with now. Just four more nights. Just three. Just three more nights, and they would be able to stop sneaking around. Able to stop lying to their friends. Able to get a decent night's sleep. Able to concentrate again, to have the energy to read a paper, carry on a lively conversation. They didn't want it to end. But they needed it to end. And they all knew it.

* * *

On the last Thursday of the holiday, the twins cornered Hermione in a stairwell. They took her by the arms, steered her into their room, and closed the door. After being cornered by Ginny in the loo, Hermione was afraid she knew why the twins wanted to speak with her privately: they didn't buy Ginny's sleepwalking story. Hermione steeled herself for the interrogation, hoping to be a better liar this time. But she never got a chance to lie. The twins weren't actually asking any questions. 

"Our little Hermione is really growing up, George," said Fred with a huge grin.

"Oh, yes," George agreed. "Just look at her. She's become a woman." They both raked their eyes appreciatively over her slim form.

"You two are insane, you know that? I really need to be getting back to the others…" Hermione eyed the door, but it was blocked by George. Fred was sitting on one of the beds, so Hermione sat on the other, and tried to look more amused than alarmed.

"You wound us, Hermione! We are not insane."

"Well, George, be honest. Perhaps we are insanely jealous!"

"Jealous! Of me? Whatever for?"

"No, babe, not jealous of YOU," said George, coming to sit beside her.

"Jealous of your warm milk," teased Fred.

Hermione's jaw dropped open momentarily, and she attempted to turn it into a yawn. Fred grinned widely. He moved across the room and joined them on George's bed, sitting on Hermione's other side.

"After Ginny asked us to put that charm on your door, we started paying closer attention. Sure enough, you have been looking awfully tired, and now we realize you've been looking progressively worse through this whole holiday. You even look worse than Harry, and he at least has an excuse for nightmares, what with Voldie in his head all the time."

Apparently there were limits to what the restorative draught could do. Maybe she should drink some every morning, instead of her coffee. "Oh, thanks so much, Fred, for telling me I look like hell. That's the way to charm the ladies."

"We didn't say you looked like hell," protested George. "That's your word. We think the dark circles under your eyes are very sexy."

"Ginny told us you went downstairs for some warm milk," Fred said, his eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter. "But she doesn't seem to believe your story."

"We noticed, of course, that Sirius and Lupin always come down to breakfast even later than you do, and look pretty knackered themselves," George continued. "Ginny must have come to the same conclusion, because we saw her yesterday watching them carefully, as if she was trying to figure out which one of them you're doing."

"But we know, Hermione," Fred said in a low, conspiratorial tone, and leaned in very close. "As twins, we have insight into this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing? I don't know what you could be getting at." Don't look horrorstruck, Hermione instructed herself. Look – what? – puzzled? Indignant? She tried for a combination of the two, but it came off looking as though she had mistakenly had a nibble of a Puking Pastille.

"Threesomes, Hermione," answered Fred, calmly. "Ménage a trois. Women are always wanting to do that with us. We are constantly amazed by – and grateful for – the number of women who have twin fantasies."

"Who could blame them, with two such dashing gentlemen as ourselves," added George.

"Too true, brother of mine. So while poor Baby Sister is stuck with a conundrum that she's not likely to solve," Fred continued, "we realized immediately that it's not either/or – it's both/and."

Hermione had gone pale. Her mouth opened to protest, but nothing came out. Brilliant, she thought to herself. Freaking brilliant.

"Don't worry, Hernione, your secret is safe with us," said George. "In fact, we're quite impressed."

"This kind of sneakiness and disregard for society's mores is almost worthy of us. We didn't realize you were capable of it," explained Fred. "We're actually planning to start admitting that we know you."

"And we'd like to get to know you better," said George, also leaning in close, so that they were a very tight group now on George's bed.

Oh, Merlin, she thought wildly. Please don't let them actually try anything. Her heart was beating too fast, and her palms were getting sweaty. Oh crap, and now her knickers were feeling damp again as well. She really didn't want this to go anywhere, but she couldn't deny that her body was reacting to their closeness, their warm breath in her ears, and their teasing words.

"Yeah, Hermione," Fred was saying, "It seems clear that your little arrangement won't be able to continue once we're back at school. But if you find that you're missing the company of two dazzlingly sexy older men… You know where to find us."

"Hermione, if you find there's an empty space in your life you just can't fill…" said George, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

"We'd be more than happy to fill your empty spaces," Fred concluded. "Any of them."

"Oh, and we'd appreciate it if you don't tell your ménage partners about our generous offer," added George. "We'll keep your secret, but we ask you to keep ours."

"Erm, Okay," gulped Hermione, jumping up from the bed. "Thanks for the offer, guys. You're very… erm… thoughtful." She bolted from the room and headed downstairs, with the twins' laughter echoing down the stairwell behind her.

She tore down the stairs as fast as she could, looking for anyone to distract her from the conversation she had just had with Fred and George. She rounded the corner into the kitchen, ran smack into Sirius and Remus, and fell over backward, landing hard on her bum. She burst into tears. They picked her up gently, and Remus hugged her tight.

"Too tight," whispered Sirius, looking over his shoulder.

Remus released her, and looked into her white, tear-streaked face. "What's the matter, Hermione?"

She couldn't tell them, could she? Well, maybe not about the offer, just that they'd been discovered. "Fred and George know," she whispered. "But they said they'd keep our secret. I didn't even get a chance to deny it – they weren't asking, they were just letting me know that they know. I feel like I built something really beautiful with you guys, but that the walls are all starting to come down around my ears. I don't want to stop now, with just three nights left, but we need to be so careful. It would be horrible if the whole household knew, especially Harry and Ron. I feel awful keeping secrets from them."

"You need some chocolate and some rest," said Remus, soothingly. They escorted her into the kitchen, and Remus broke out his best Belgian chocolates.

Sirius suggested she get some of her textbooks, and go up to his room, and he would make excuses for her. "You just lie down and nap for a bit, and I'll tell everyone you needed to start catching up on your reading for school and that you wanted a quiet place to do it, and that you are not to be disturbed."

She looked at them both with gratitude. They took such good care of her. The chocolate melted in her mouth and filled her with a sweet calm. She took a few deep breaths, and nodded. "Thanks so much, you guys. I'll be okay. Midnight again?"

They nodded, and she smiled wearily. "I'll go grab some books and head upstairs. I'll see you both later."

"Wouldn't miss it," said Remus. His arms were around Sirius's waist, and they smiled at each other as she left them and headed back upstairs.

* * *

A/N: Poor Hermione. Of course she knows that her actions have consequences, but she had sort of forgotten, conveniently. Sadly, it's all coming back to her at once, and the stress is getting to her more than she realized. What do you think? Am I being too hard on her? 

Oh, and – p.s. – don't worry, gentle reader: our trio will be back in the master bedroom suite in the next chapter.

Reviews make the world go 'round! (Well, MY world, anyway! Keep me spinnin'!)


	12. Chapter 12: Communion

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 12: Communion

* * *

Hermione awoke from her nap feeling more optimistic. Certainly her encounter with Fred and George had been uncomfortable, but now that she was better rested, she was able to see the humor in it, as well. She knew that she and her ménage partners, as the twins had called them, did need to be careful so that the entire household didn't know what they were doing. But the sensation that everything was crumbling around her seemed, in retrospect, a bit extreme. So Molly, Fred, and George knew what was going on, and Ginny wasn't far off. That was only four of the Weasleys – less than half of their family! And Fred and George had promised to keep her secret safe. Molly and Ginny obviously disapproved, but Hermione believed they would not say anything to Harry or Ron. Luckily, her two best mates were rather clueless about anything having to do with relationships. It was often irritating that they were so thick in the head, but in this instance it was working in her favor.

* * *

At midnight, the trio met as planned in the master suite. In what had become a hallowed ritual, they took their nightly precautions. Each had a part in the litany: Sirius cast the silencing charm so they could be as exuberant as they liked, Remus cast the protective charms to keep Kreacher out, and Hermione cast the contraceptive charm to keep any and all buns out of her oven. 

The knowledge that their time together was drawing to a close, and a newfound sense of the fragility of their secret, made their gathering feel more precious. They each felt the need to cherish this time, to burn it into their individual and collective memories. Undressing one another became an act of reverence. As flesh was revealed, it was softly praised, tenderly caressed, lovingly kissed. They spoke in whispers and sighs, relishing the sound of one another's names on their lips.

Hermione found herself burying her nose in their armpits, and sucking and licking greedily everything from earlobes to toes, seeking to create an indelible imprint of each man's scent and taste. She wanted to consume them, to make them a part of herself. She was so purposeful in her devouring of them, that neither man dared interrupt her mission.

When she finally mounted Sirius, she was so focused on observing every bodily sensation as it happened that she almost seemed to be in a meditative trance. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was deep and rhythmic, timed with her movements. Remus, understanding Hermione's need to attend so deeply to the experience of Sirius, sat back and observed in awe. The two climbed higher and higher together, and reached their climaxes mere seconds apart, and though Sirius collapsed afterward, burned up by her intensity, Hermione reached out for Remus.

"Remus, please, I need you… Now," she said quietly but urgently, and he nodded silently as he took her in his arms. Within minutes she had climbed on top of the werewolf and lowered herself onto his ready shaft. "Remus," she whispered over and over, like a mantra. She moved steadily, slowly gaining intensity. Now it was Sirius's turn to watch in wonderment as Hermione became transported. She rode Remus until she was lifted to a plane of sheer ecstasy. Remus was drawn along on her powerful journey until he, too, was taken out of himself, into blissful union with her and with everything beautiful and sweet he had ever known.

Hermione tumbled off of him onto the silky sheets in a state of delirium, laughing and crying all at the same time, with her face buried in her hands. Sirius and Remus, unsure how to react, settled for holding her, and stroking her hair and her trembling limbs until she came back to herself enough to say anything remotely coherent. At first, all she could do was repeat the word, "beautiful."

"Damn, Hermione," said Sirius, in a hushed tone, "what WAS that? I wouldn't have been surprised if you started to levitate, you looked so high."

Finally, she managed sentences. "Beautiful, beautiful. That was just so fucking beautiful. The whole world was reduced to colors - deep and vibrant – and I had a rainbow inside me. I was filled with light but I wasn't big enough to contain it. I just exploded with it. It was the wildest experience – I wasn't even connected to the earth, only to you – there was nothing in the universe but us three. I know I'm not making any sense, but that's what happened."

"It was pretty wild for me, too," Sirius replied. "I felt sort of like a primeval forest and you were a forest fire, but I actually wanted to be burned up by you. Like turning into ash and smoke was a transformation I had waited for my whole life."

"For me it was more of an expansive thing," said Remus. "Hermione said she wasn't big enough to contain the light inside her, but I actually felt limitless – as if I had lost my borders and become a vast ocean that contained everything good."

"I don't know how that happened," she mused. "We didn't do anything we hadn't done before. But somehow everything felt different this time. Sacred, or something – and that's not a term I normally use. I have never considered myself to be a terribly spiritual person, but I don't know how else to describe the way this night has felt to me."

"Maybe it was because you were in complete control of the situation," Sirius offered.

"That's the funny thing," she said, "I didn't feel like I was in control at all. I had given up control, and was moving the way I felt compelled to move, by… I don't know, the universe, or something. Like the universe was moving through me, through us.

For a few minutes, no one spoke. Each was lost in private reflection.

"How about a soak in the tub," Hermione finally suggested. "No bubbles, or jets, just a calm, warm, blue pool of water and the three of us. Something… something Remus said about a limitless sea – I've been wanting to immerse myself in water ever since he said that."

Remus rolled to the edge of the bed, and swung his long legs over the side. "I, Remus John Lupin, God of the Ocean, will draw a bath for Hermione, the Sea Nymph," he said with a flourish and a bow.

"Sea Nymphomaniac, more like," muttered Sirius under his breath, as Remus started the tap.

Hermione let out a happy peal of laughter, and Remus's head appeared out of the bathroom to ask, "What's so funny?" Clouds of steam were already gathering behind him.

"Nothing!" Hermione and Sirius said together, still chuckling.

When the bath was drawn and all three had sunk into the warm water up to their chins, Hermione told Remus, "I wish I could float on my back the way you do. It looks so relaxing and peaceful, but I always sink, no matter how hard I try."

"There's your problem, Hermione. You can't be trying hard. It's not so much floating that relaxes me, as it is relaxing that floats me, if you see what I mean. Come here, and let me help you."

So Hermione stretched out in the oversized tub, and Remus placed a hand under her back to support her. He instructed her to relax her neck, close her eyes, and trust the water to hold her. "Let your head fall back into the water. You need to surrender, to give up control like you did earlier tonight."

"Remus, it does feel wonderful to lie in the water like this, but I still don't know if I could do it without your hand there." She raised her head a bit while speaking to him, and immediately sank.

"Try it again," he said, calmly, after she resurfaced. "I won't move my hand. Relax. Don't try to look at me, just trust the water and trust me. I'll be right here."

Both men watched as the warm water fanned out her hair. Her breasts, belly, and face were islands, as the rest of her hovered just below the surface. She did resemble a sea nymph.

Sirius saw that the contrast between water temperature and air temperature was creating goose bumps on her exposed skin, so he reached over the side of the tub and came back with two washcloths. He gave one to Remus. Together, they soaked the cloths in the tub and used them to wash the warm water over her. She sighed deeply and contentedly.

Gently, Sirius and Remus began to wash Hermione. Remus used his free hand to stroke the curves of her face, her breasts, her shoulders and her belly, willing to her to stay relaxed. She smiled and sighed again. Sirius started at her feet, washing between each pink toe, and working up her legs. Before long, they were both using their tongues as much as – if not more than – the washcloths. Hermione drifted on a sea of pleasure as their caresses washed over her. When Sirius tenderly parted her legs, bringing them to either side of his body, and brought his head down at their junction, she moaned softly. He cupped both hands underneath her hips, and raised her slightly out of the water to get better access. At the taste of her, he groaned with desire.

He raised his head and looked lovingly at Remus. "I can taste you on her, Moony. It's the most delicious combination."

Remus raised his head from where he had been pulling lightly on one of Hermione's nipples with his teeth, and smiled at Sirius. "How about after this bath you bring those lovely lips over to me?"

Sirius grinned back, then returned his attention to Hermione. Between his eager tongue and Remus's ministrations, it wasn't long before Hermione became completely unmoored, crying out and arching her back so deeply as she came that Remus had to use both arms to keep her face from going totally underwater.

* * *

They were all toweling off in front of the fireplace, when Sirius, as he had been instructed, came to Remus. He wrapped his arms around his lover, pressing the entire length of his body to him. They kissed, and Remus sighed, murmuring, "Yes, yes, it's sweet on your lips, Padfoot." 

"I want more, Moony," he whispered back. Sirius kissed his way down Remus's chest, then urged Remus wordlessly down to the rug, and brought his mouth down on the werewolf as Hermione had seen him do so many nights ago in the kitchen. It was still a stirring experience to witness the connection between these two, she mused, as her right hand involuntarily traveled down her belly to find her body's now-familiar response.

Remus opened his eyes and they met with Hermione's, again reminding her forcibly of the night of her 2:00 am kitchen expedition. He took in her aroused state, and beckoned to her. She came over on hands and knees to kiss him, but he grasped her by the hips and pulled them to his face. She gasped as she felt his tongue on her hot, erect nub, and gave herself over to him. The closer Sirius got Remus to orgasm, the more intensely he devoured her. She came first, as she had still been hovering near the edge after her floating lesson in the tub, and he greedily lapped up her juices. She collapsed onto the hearth rug, utterly spent after four orgasms in less than two hours.

As soon as Remus's attention was all back on his own rising passion, he exploded as well. Sirius growled hungrily as he swallowed every drop. Sirius rolled onto his back on the floor beside Remus's hips, exposing his own erection. Hermione crawled over to him and kissed him deeply, tasting the intoxicating flavor of Remus in Sirius's mouth. Remus turned his attention to his lover's swollen member, and Sirius bucked up from the floor to meet Remus's mouth. His cries were muffled by Hermione's kisses as he, too, quickly fell over the edge into sweet release.

"Sweet Mother of Merlin," Sirius sighed, after he'd recovered his breath. "I'm not sure I can move. I'll just have to stay here all night."

"How I wish I could do that as well," sighed Hermione, "but I think given my recent conversations with several of the Weasleys, I really ought to spend at least a few hours in my own bed tonight."

"You'll stay with me, Moony, won't you?"

"Of course, my love. But wouldn't you rather be on the bed? I can carry you there."

"I could probably get there myself. I was halfway joking. I am pretty spent, and my legs do feel wobbly, but I think I could manage. It does feel so good here by the fire, though."

"I'll make sure you stay nice and warm, I promise," teased Remus, and he scooped up Sirius and carried him to the bed as easily as if he were lifting a child.

"Damn, Remus, that was impressive," said Hermione. "Who knew you were that powerful? You lifted a six-foot man as if he were nothing."

"It comes with the werewolf package, Hermione," said Remus, ruefully. "Great sense of smell, penchant for slightly rare roast beef, cravings for chocolate, fear of full moons, issues with silver, monthly hangovers, and prodigious strength."

Hermione was dying to ask about Remus's other prodigious asset and whether it was also part of the "werewolf package," but decided he would have included it in his list if it were, or maybe he was a bit sensitive about his size and didn't want to bring it up. So she resisted, biting on her lower lip to keep the question locked inside. Perhaps some things were better left as mysteries.

Remus joined Sirius on the bed, and Hermione kissed them both goodnight as she helped them to cover up. As she was pulling on her clothes, the two men snuggled into each other like spoons nesting in a drawer, Remus keeping Sirius warm, just as he'd promised. She smiled at them tenderly and closed the door softly behind her as she left.

* * *

A/N: And now I've gone all sacrilegious. Hope I didn't offend with my intermingling of sexuality with spirituality. Or with getting quite a bit more smutty and graphic than I usually do, and including the F word, which I normally don't like to write (though I'll say it comfortably enough). Actually, I guess I managed to go from the sacred to the profane in only 2500 words! 

This chapter was not planned – it sort of just happened. I think the characters were asking for it. Or maybe it has something to do with my reading Sue Monk Kidd's "The Mermaid Chair" this week, in which a woman has a hot yet spiritual love affair with a monk, and finds herself along the way. I highly recommend it. (The book, that is, not hot/spiritual affairs with monks...)

Oh, one more technical note: I recently confessed to my husband that I was writing smut and told him a little about it, and he too is concerned that this whole arrangement is illegal because Hermione is so young. So I finally researched it online: and tah dah - the age of consent in the UK is 16, so we're in the clear. Plus, I figured they mature a bit faster in the wizarding world, as they become adults at 17. This doesn't change the fact that these guys are 20 yrs older than she is (according to the HP Lexicon, which I love), or that there are two of them, or that they were already involved in a committed relationship before this got started. So I do know I'm on shaky moral ground here, but, as several reviewers have pointed out, this is - after all - fiction, NOT reality. To all my 16 yr old readers: I am not advocating you go find older gay men, no matter how sexy, and try this kind of arrangement. Got it? Right. Now that we all understand one another...

Please review! Was this too over-the-top, or did it come off OK? I was way out of my comfort zone with this chapter. Hope it didn't read that way, though!


	13. Chapter 13: Gratitude

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 13: Gratitude

* * *

The following night found all three research partners in a subdued mood. It was sobering to think that this was their second-to-last night. And they realized it was unlikely that they would reach the same heights of ecstasy they had reached the previous night. It would be impossible to recreate what had been a spontaneous transcendental moment. Even Sirius was at a loss for what to do next. Hermione and Remus pulled out their original lesson plan lists, and reviewed them, but it was true: they'd covered everything they had intended to try. 

"We could get the chocolate sauce again," suggested Remus. "That was fun."

"Nah," said Hermione. "I'm not hungry."

"How about we just get back to where we were last night before we all got too tired. Shall we snuggle up together by the fire, and see what happens?" Sirius did love snuggling by the fire.

Remus and Hermione agreed that the fire sounded wonderful. They spread the blankets on the hearth rug to make the floor a bit softer, and cuddled up in the warmth and glow.

The fire was blazing, and they quickly became very warm. "I want to feel it on my skin," said Sirius, and he began to shed his clothing. Hermione loved the look of him in the dancing light cast by the flames. It almost made his tattoos look animated. She told him so, and he proudly turned 360 degrees to show them off most effectively.

Hermione and Remus applauded and laughed. Then Hermione nudged Remus. "How about you, next? That first night when I stumbled upon the two of you in the kitchen, you looked incredible in the firelight. Your chest looked as if it was made of gold, and your scars were pearly white. You were like a magnificent piece of art created out of precious materials. And your nipples… Sirius had been licking and sucking on them, and they were glistening. I'd love to see you that way again."

Naturally, after being described as a golden statue, Remus had no choice but to cooperate with her wishes. He, too, stripped down.

"Turn for us, babe," instructed Sirius. So he did. Sirius whistled appreciatively.

Hermione sighed contentedly. "Still beautiful, Remus."

Then they both looked at Hermione. "Well," Remus teased, "don't we get to see your skin in the firelight?"

She smiled. "I suppose I am getting a little too warm in these clothes." She disrobed as well, and when they insisted, she turned in a slow circle for Sirius and Remus.

"Lovely, sweetheart," Sirius said. "The shadows accentuate all your lovely curves and hollows. Even your belly button looks deeper and more mysterious."

She laughed, and they resettled themselves on the blankets. Sirius decided to go spelunking in Hermione's navel with his tongue. She found herself tracing Remus's scars with her fingers. Remus intertwined his legs with Sirius's.

"This is so cozy, Sirius," sighed Hermione. "The fire was a great idea."

"Mmmmm," he agreed, still exploring Hermione's belly.

"This whole arrangement has been very nice," added Remus. "I've had a great couple of weeks."

"Oh, me too," said Hermione, as if seconding a motion in Parliament.

"Mmmmm," said Sirius.

"I'm so glad I got to have this experience," she continued. "I've learned so much from you both, and not just about sex. I've actually learned a few things about myself along the way, too – like how rewarding it can be to give up control sometimes, and to trust my instincts. And I've learned so much about you both, as well."

"Like what, Hermione?" Sirius had raised his head to follow the conversation better.

"Well, when I first developed my crushes on you both, you had been like two-dimensional characters. I was attracted more to the idea of you than to your real selves, because I didn't really know you. I guess that's the nature of a crush, isn't it? But now I feel I do know you as whole people, complex and wonderful, and it's made me even more fond of you."

"I know what you mean, Hermione," Sirius said. "I have gotten to know you as so much more than Harry's smart and pretty friend. It's been eye-opening. I love how you do everything so wholeheartedly. As I told you the other night, I do feel more confident about the war, knowing you're on our side. And, although I was doubtful at first, I have actually appreciated your educational approach. It certainly did get us to stretch our boundaries and try things we might not have tried otherwise."

"I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks, after all," teased Remus. Then he became serious. "I'm thankful for the experience, too," he said. "I tend to think of myself as… well, not the best company, seeing as how I have the potential for such violence every month. Even with the wolfsbane potion, I know I'm not a lot of fun to be around for several days around the full moon. Sirius has put up with me for years, and I know he loves me. But it has been heartening to have someone else know me this intimately and not be repelled. I'll remember that forever."

"Remus! I could never be repelled by you. You'll always be one of my very favorite people!"

"And you probably recall," he continued, giving her a grateful squeeze to acknowledge the compliment, "that on that first night in Sirius's room I confessed that some small part of me was a bit nervous about our plan. I had only been with one woman before, so I wasn't entirely sure how I would feel. Also, I knew that Sirius had been with several women, and I was the littlest bit worried that he might not want me as much after he got a taste of girls again. But it all worked out fine. Better than fine, actually."

"Oh, Remus," Hermione sighed, "you were so brave to take what you saw as a risk to your relationship with Sirius. It's beautiful that you trusted him enough to do that."

"If anything, Moony, I think this holiday has strengthened us, don't you? I mean, Hermione's right – you did grant me a huge amount of trust. I love that you felt we were strong enough to include Hermione for this time and not let it disrupt what we have. And honestly, watching Hermione discover you was like discovering you again myself. I feel like I'm seeing you with fresh eyes, and I've fallen in love with you all over again."

Hermione scooted out of the way so that the two lovers could embrace. After a long kiss, they settled into their spoon position again, with Remus holding Sirius tight from behind, and Sirius caressing Remus's arms as they wrapped around him. Remus's amber eyes glittered in the firelight. She gazed at him with an odd expression, until he finally had to ask what was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong," she answered. "I love seeing the two of you together. You make such a great couple. It just seems like you two must have been together since the moment you met, but I know it wasn't until your seventh year that you became lovers, and now I hear that you were with a woman once. I couldn't help but wondering who the lucky girl was, but also pitying her because she lost you to Sirius."

"She didn't lose me to Sirius. She had already become involved with someone else by the time Sirius and I got together."

"Oh – I'm sorry, Remus. I hope she didn't break your heart."

"Not at all. We remained close friends for the rest of her life."

"Oh, she died... How sad, Remus. Was it someone I might have heard of? Someone from the Order, during the first war?"

"I can't say. I promised her it would be our little secret that we had ever been more than friends."

Sirius snuggled deeper into Remus, and hugged his arms tighter, as if to give him strength. "Go on, Moony, you told me, so you already broke that particular promise. Plus, just about everyone who would have cared is dead now. And you know from experience that Hermione can keep a secret from the one person still alive who might get upset about it."

Remus looked uncomfortable, but also as if he were trying to justify spilling his secret. Finally, his face set into an expression of determination, as he settled his internal debate. "It was Lily – Harry's mother."

A small gasp escaped Hermione's lips.

"We broke it off long before she and James started dating," Remus assured her. He looked enormously relieved to be unburdening himself. "I mean, he was head over heels in love with her, but they weren't a couple yet. He never found out. It only lasted for a couple of months, early in our sixth year. Neither of us meant for it to happen."

"I know you would never intentionally do something to hurt James. So how did it happen?"

"James used to really get on her nerves, wouldn't leave her alone, always pestering her for a date, or a kiss. She thought she could like him, but needed him to back off a bit so she could see how she felt when she wasn't being pressured. She needed someone to talk to about how confused he made her feel. Meanwhile, I was feeling dirty, contaminated by the werewolf bite, and had made myself into a bit of a loner. The only people I called my friends were the Marauders, and eventually Lily. She was so kind, somehow I never felt unworthy when she talked to me. I reveled in her attention – I almost felt as though I bloomed when we were together. We mistook our mutual need for caring and concern, and thought it was love. But it wasn't. Or maybe it was, but it wasn't the kind of passion she had later with James, and it wasn't the kind of passion Sirius and I had for each other when when we got together, and still have now." Sirius and Remus held each other even tighter.

"So by the end of seventh year, you were both happy for each other? No broken hearts?"

"Right, Hermione, no broken hearts." He smiled sadly. "Well, until she and James were killed – that broke a lot of hearts. I miss James terribly, of course – he was one of my very best mates. But Lily – losing her goodness and beauty and compassion was almost too much for me. No one could understand the depth of my grieving, because my relationship with her had been a secret. Even Sirius didn't know until after his escape from Azkaban. I never told anyone about it while she was still alive, and now you two are the only people who know. And you can't say anything about this to anyone, either, Hermione, least of all Harry."

Hermione reached out a hand and stroked Remus's back. He was clinging to Sirius fiercely, and his voice had become choked with emotion. "Of course not, Remus. I promise I won't. And as much as I hate keeping secrets from him, Harry can't ever know about this adventure we've had together. I'm not sure which of us he'd be angrier with, and goodness knows he's been angry enough lately. Although I don't believe our relationship has anything to do with him, I feel certain he would take it as a personal betrayal."

Sirius and Remus nodded solemnly, guilty expressions on their faces.

"Speaking of Harry, and of his parents," said Sirius, in a brighter tone, "as his godfather, of course, I'm the closest thing he's got to parents now, whatever Molly might think to the contrary. And just as you've become a young woman, Hermione, he's becoming a young man. I heard he recently had his first kiss, with a certain raven-haired Ravenclaw. Do you think I need to have a man-to-man talk with him about sex?"

"You know, Sirius," she said, considering the question carefully, "though it might embarrass him terribly, I still think it would be a wonderful thing to do. For one thing, yes, he probably needs information. For another, I'm sure it would really touch him to have you do something so very parental for him. If I might make a suggestion, however…"

"Yes?"

"You might want to make that sex talk fairly broad in scope. Just in case, you know, it's not a girl that he ends up in a relationship with."

Remus, whose face was still buried in Sirius's neck, looked up in surprise. "What? You think Harry might be gay? I thought he was kissing girls!"

"Well, look at Sirius, Remus. He was kissing a lot of girls when he was Harry's age, right? I'm just saying – and you guys were the first ones to bring this up – that maybe Harry might swing a bit both ways, or at least be curious enough to try something with a bloke one day. When you said that in your experience everyone's bisexual until proven otherwise, I thought about that for a while. And there's a particular boy I've noticed he seems to be rather passionate about. Right now their relationship is passionately antagonistic, but I get the sense that could turn into something else fairly easily. There's a thin line, as they say, between love and hate."

"Merlin's Pants, Hermione, you're not talking about Draco Malfoy," protested Remus.

"I am," she replied. "I don't like him either – he's said some pretty awful things about me in the past, and – until this holiday break – punching him in the nose had been one of the most satisfying experiences of my life. But I can't deny that Harry seems a bit obsessed with him. He watches him across the dining hall more intently and more frequently than is strictly necessary, and he seems incapable of keeping Draco from getting under his skin. I don't think anything is going on right now, but I don't think it would take much. An insult leading to a fist fight, which deteriorates into a wrestling match, which becomes a snogfest, for instance, all hot and bothered, and hands down each other's pants, jerking each other off frantically, cursing wildly the whole time…"

"Okay, point taken, Hermione," said Sirius, raising a hand to make her stop. "I'll keep the sex talk broad enough to include potential boy-on-boy action. Happy?"

"I could be happier."

Sirius frowned at her. "How?"

"I could be watching some hot boy-on-boy action, instead of just talking about it, for one."

"Hermione, you're a pervert."

"Thank you, Remus," she smiled serenely.

* * *

A/N: The very first fanfic I ever read was Irresistible Poison by Rhysenn, which is a Draco/Harry story, extremely well done. My first thought was "Draco and Harry? But they HATE each other!" But Rhysenn makes it entirely plausible and even beautiful. I don't think the entire story is up here on this site, but if you google the author's name, you'll find the story on the author's own site. Irresistible Poison comes from a position of the two boys hating each other, but then a love potion gone wrong makes things really complicated. If you like that pairing and you haven't read IP yet, I highly recommend it. Very romantic and extremely angsty. PG13 rating. Oh, and Hermione plays a critical role, entirely in character, if you're fond of her doing her usual brilliant thing.

I actually think there's a bit of canon evidence that Harry & Draco could be rather obsessed with each other - I'm not sure it would require a love potion to get them into each other's pants. It's not that I think they LIKE each other, just that I think they're fascinated with each other. But then, that's not the focus of this story, is it?

So: Harry/Draco, Remus/Lily, I'm throwing all kinds of stuff into this chapter! Hmmm... where will I go next?! Suggestions? (Reviews?)


	14. Chapter 14: Love

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 14: Love

* * *

Sirius, of course, felt compelled to apparate naked to the library to fetch the firewhiskey, so he could propose yet another toast. ("To perverts!" "Hear, hear!") Hermione felt it going straight to her head: she was out of practice with intoxicants, as she'd been drinking the restorative draught lately, rather than firewhiskey or champagne. But instead of feeling silly or frisky or even sleepy – all of which had resulted at one time or another from similar indulgences – she found herself in a decidedly pensive mood. She was in her own world, mesmerized by the dancing flames, the warmth on her skin, and the soundtrack of sighs and soft pillow talk coming from Sirius and Remus, who seemed to be in their own world as well, kissing and cuddling. The cozy smell of the fire, combined with the familiar bite of the firewhiskey, was soothing, and added to her state of reverie. 

They did have something special, those two. While she knew they were both attracted to her, and that they admired her and felt fondly toward her, she knew they didn't love her in the same way they loved each other. And of course, she told herself, that's the way it should be. She hoped she would one day find that kind of love. There was something developing between her and Ron, that much was obvious (well, to all but Ron himself, the thick git!). But could she ever love Ron as truly as Remus and Sirius loved each other? Could Ron ever love her as deeply? In all honesty, it was hard to imagine him ever maturing enough to be as passionate about her as he was about Quidditch. Or even chess, for that matter. But then, boys matured later than girls, so maybe all he needed was time. Hermione supposed she would have to decide, at some point, just how much time she was willing to give him. With the coming war, time was a luxury that could be in short supply.

When the sounds coming from the men became more rhythmic, she glanced away from the fire to see Remus making love to Sirius. As she watched, she recognized that it truly was just that – making love. Not just sex, but love, commitment, a past together and the promise of a future. In truth, although Remus was in the dominant position, they were making love to each other. They rocked together, slowly and tenderly, the firelight glinting on their lean bodies, shimmering on the sheen of perspiration that gilded Remus's back. Her friends were beautiful, yes, but more than that – their lovemaking was beautiful. The long limbs wrapped around each other, the give and take, each man taking obvious joy in the other. Their faces shone with devotion and bliss. When they climaxed, they cried out each other's names.

Incredibly, Hermione's body wasn't reacting in the way she had come to expect. She realized that for the first time she was more focused on emotion than on sexual technique or sexual gratification. Even the previous night, when the sex had felt somehow sacred to her, it had more to do with mindfulness, with intensity, and with single-pointed focus, than it had to do with matters of the heart. This time, instead of wanting to be part of the action, she found herself in awe of the sacred love Sirius and Remus clearly felt for each other. She realized she was extraneous. They had everything they needed right here with each other. And she knew then that it was over. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks, and under her chin. She swiped at them with the back of her hand.

Sirius and Remus, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking and in the warmth of the fire, caught the movement in their peripheral vision, and looked over at her in surprise. She couldn't tell if their reaction was due to her tears, or her mere presence, which they had probably forgotten quite some time ago.

Sirius was the first to find his tongue. "Babydoll, what's wrong?"

"Hermione, are you feeling left out? Come over here and snuggle with us, sweetheart," offered Remus.

"No, no. It's nothing like that. It's just that our time together is ending. It's been so special, this time with you. I will always treasure these memories."

"Well, it's not over yet, darling," said Sirius. "We still have tomorrow night."

"I can't bear to think about it," she replied. "Please, you guys, help me think of something happy. Maybe you could tell me the story of how you two fell in love. That's a story with a happy ending, I know!"

Both men smiled faraway smiles, their minds going back, the decades melting away.

"It's not that dramatic of a story, you know," said Remus, sitting up. "No big scene where we simultaneously realized that we were meant to be together. Just a thousand little things all adding up, until the equation became simple – Sirius and me."

"Well, you can't tell it like that, Moony," chided Sirius. "Girls like romance. Start at the beginning."

Hermione smiled at the way they played off of one another.

"All right then… I guess it all started before we even got to Hogwarts. Of course I'd noticed Sirius on Platform 9-3/4. Everyone noticed Sirius. He was everything I was not: obviously well to do, sure of himself, eager for the school environment, comfortable being the center of attention. I was excited about school, sure, but I was also dreading living in such close quarters with other boys, and having to hide my condition. I'd gotten so used to hiding it, that I'd begun even to hide myself, in a way. Most of the time, I was trying to fade into the background. Sirius was not in the background at all – even at eleven years old, he got quite a bit of attention, especially from the girls, though I'm sure I was not the only boy staring openly."

Sirius sat up, too, and picked up the tale. "I took so long on the platform enjoying the excitement and commotion of the place, that when I finally got on board the Express, most of the compartments were full. I found space in the very last one – it contained only Remus. I asked if I could join him, and he said yes. We introduced ourselves. I still shudder when I think of it – I was so full of myself. 'Black,' I told him. 'Sirius Black.' As if the name should impress him. It didn't, and I suppose that impressed ME a bit. We passed the first couple of hours of the journey in almost total silence. Luckily, when the witch came by with the food trolley, it gave us something to talk about. We compared Chocolate Frog card collections – Remus's, as you might imagine, was extensive – and from there it became easier to talk about everything else. We found we had a similar sense of humor, and a history of causing trouble in varying degrees. By the time we rolled up to Hogsmeade station, we were fast friends."

Remus took hold of Sirius's hand, and continued, "I had expected Sirius to be sorted into Slytherin, of course, because he had informed me that the rest of his family were all Slytherins. But when he was sorted into Gryffindor, I knew without a doubt that's where I wanted to be. I was so nervous waiting for my turn with that blessed hat. And when it sorted me into Gryffindor almost immediately, I felt my knees go weak with relief. I think even that early I had a crush on him, but I didn't call it that, even to myself. I only hoped that we would be best mates. When I saw how well he got on with James, I was a bit resentful, at first. But very quickly, James, Sirius, Peter, and I were getting along great."

"It bothered me immensely, though," said Sirius, "that Remus seemed so sickly. We all worried about his health, and while he was laid up, we would speculate incessantly about his condition. I wanted to help him, in any way I could."

"You already heard much of our story, Hermione, that night in the Shrieking Shack when we almost caught Peter," Remus reminded her. "How they figured out my condition, confronted me, and then instead of abandoning me, as I'd fully expected, they came up with their plan to become Animagi. I couldn't believe I was lucky enough to have such good friends. And we really had fun on those full moon nights after they'd finally mastered the magic required. Still, my transformations were physically exhausting, and I missed a lot of classes. I spent a considerable amount of time in the library, catching up on the schoolwork I missed each month. Lily was spending a lot of time in the library, too, avoiding James. That's where she and I became good friends. Meanwhile, Sirius was riding high - his natural good looks and charm were only enhanced by the popularity of the Marauders. Girls were almost literally throwing themselves at him, and he began to indulge them."

"I don't even know if I really liked any of them," Sirius admitted. "But I was so caught up in their attention. I felt I SHOULD date them because I COULD date them. Like the rest of the boys all expected it of me."

"Oh, the obligations that go along with being handsome and popular," teased Remus.

"Plenty of girls were interested in Moony, too. He intrigued them. The handsome loner, always so quiet and intense: he was a mystery they wanted to unravel. But he never gave any of them a chance. Except Lily, I found out later."

"Yes, Lily and I had our little fling, as I told you, and then broke it off. I encouraged her to give James a break and go to Hogsmeade with him one weekend, and that was really all it took. Once she finally said yes, he let up on the pressure, and she found that he actually was a nice bloke and a lot of fun when he wasn't trying so hard. Of course, with those two off together, Sirius, Peter and I spent more time as a trio. Sirius regaled us with stories of his latest conquests, which – though I tried to hide it – always made me feel jealous. In the beginning, I told myself I was jealous of Sirius because he was having so much luck with the girls. But more and more, I started to realize I was jealous of the girls he was kissing all over school, and shagging on the Astronomy tower all the time. I don't know when I realized I wanted him in that same way. For the longest time I was still telling myself it was platonic, and I just wanted more of my friend's attention."

"When did you finally know? How did you come to realize it?"

"He didn't, the big git," answered Sirius.

Remus laughed. "I was an idiot, it's true. But then we started spending more time together, just the two of us. You see, Peter lived to emulate Sirius. So when he heard Sirius's stories about all these girls, he decided to try it himself. He eventually developed quite a social life for himself by dating all Sirius's cast-offs. I was spending a lot of time alone again, since James was off with Lily, and Sirius and Peter frequently had dates. But Sirius would always spend time with me before his dates, just hanging out in the common room or the dormitory talking. Sometimes we would get so involved in a conversation that he would be late for his appointments. Once in a while, he would stand a girl up because we were having too much fun together and he didn't want to leave me." Remus pulled Sirius closer to him.

"I didn't know what to make of my feelings," Sirius added. "Some of the prettiest girls in school were waiting for me on the Astronomy tower or in a disused classroom, and all I wanted to do was to hang out with Moony on his four-poster, talking about nothing in particular. One morning, after I'd stood up another girl, I was apologizing to her in the Great Hall between classes. I told her I was sorry, but I'd been talking with Remus, and lost track of time."

"And she said," Remus jumped in, with a broad smile, "I love this part! She said – 'Why don't you just marry Remus then, if you like him so much!' I really owe that girl."

"Naturally, I told her she was being ridiculous, but inside, I knew there was something to what she said. Didn't I have feelings for Moony that were more than friendship? I wondered if he felt the same way, but didn't dare ask him. That night when we were on his bed talking, I flirted with him a little – employing the same techniques with Remus that the girls used to use on me: brushing up against him lightly, putting my face closer to his when we talked. If he responded, we would have something to explore together. If he didn't, well, I could just pass it off as accidental contact."

"I was trying hard not to respond," Remus continued, "but he was laying it on pretty thick. I reminded him, as calmly as I could, that he had a date that night, but he looked up at me through his eyelashes and said he'd rather not go. That he'd rather be with me. That he loved spending time with me. I couldn't believe my ears; it was exactly what I'd always hoped to hear him say."

"Moony was obviously responding to my advances, but I couldn't tell if it was a good response or a bad one. He looked like a unicorn caught in the lantern light – all wide-eyed and too frightened to move. I could have just leaned over and kissed him, but I was a little afraid he might punch me."

"We were very close, and he had one leg sort of thrown over me possessively, and his eyes were on my lips – I don't think I was breathing. I was terrified that he might kiss me, and that I would kiss him back. I didn't know how to handle my feelings, still didn't understand them."

"So I gathered up all of my courage, and I told him I'd been doing a lot of thinking, and that there had to be a reason why I kept ditching girls to be with him, and that if he would let me, I'd like to kiss him."

"And even though I was still terrified, I nodded, and closed my eyes. I could feel him leaning into me, feel his breath so close, and then his warm, soft lips on mine. It felt so right, so perfect. We snogged for hours until we heard Peter coming up the stairs. We bolted apart, trying to look like nothing had happened."

"Luckily," added Sirius, "Peter wasn't the sharpest quill in the bookbag, and he didn't notice anything. Don't ask me how – we were all rumpled, and flushed, and panting, and Remus's bed was a mess."

"I don't know that any of us were too sharp in the relationship department, at that point," admitted Remus. "For several weeks, I thought that night spent snogging was a fluke – even though we repeated it more than once. I was Sirius's friend, not his lover. And he continued to make dates with girls, and keep a few of them. But eventually everything else fell away, and we both found we were living for those hours we would spend together in the dormitory while our friends were out with girls. We talked about it a lot, the thing that was developing between us, and finally – we realized it was love."

Hermione clapped her hands with glee. "That's so sweet! You two are absolutely adorable, you know that? Did Peter ever find out? Or James?"

"No, I don't think so," said Sirius, thoughtfully. "I'm not sure why, but we both knew we wanted to keep it a secret from them, and I don't believe either one ever found out."

"But Lily knew," said Remus. "She found me at our usual table in the library one day, not long after that first kiss, and whispered to me how happy she was that Sirius and I had finally figured out that we wanted each other. I'm sure my jaw dropped wide open. She kissed me on the cheek, and then pulled out her books and started to study. But she kept looking up at me and smiling. I think I was grinning like an idiot by then."

"It must have been disappointing for the girls when you stopped making dates with them, Sirius," Hermione chuckled. "However did you explain it?"

"I just told them I had to study for NEWTs. There was quite a buzz about how I had suddenly become such a serious student. I told everyone it was because of Remus's influence, which made him laugh. I loved to make him laugh. Still do," Sirius said, giving Remus a playful squeeze.

"It all sounds so idyllic. But it wasn't always that way, was it? I remember in the Shrieking Shack you both said you had suspected each other of being the spy for Voldemort," Hermione said soberly. "So it sounds like things got pretty difficult between you for a while. It's hard to imagine how you could have believed that of each other, after being so close for so long."

"It was a very confusing time," admitted Remus. "We all knew Voldemort was gaining power, but everyone tried to create islands of normalcy and happiness. Sirius had got his own place, and after graduation, I moved in with him. In public, we pretended to be roommates. In private, we pretended we were married. James and Lily got married and had Harry. Peter didn't come around quite as much anymore, and it kills me now that we didn't recognize that something was wrong."

Sirius shook his head sadly. "We were young, and in love, and James and Lily were so wrapped up in being parents, that none of us saw the signs. We eventually learned that someone very close to the Potters had been passing information to Voldemort, and it was terrifying to think that someone in our midst was a traitor. We suspected each other, but for some reason we didn't suspect Peter. I think maybe it seemed too daring and independent a move for him to have made – he was always such a follower. Now we know he had merely changed leaders."

"At that time," Remus continued, "Voldemort's supporters included a large band of werewolves, so I was naturally suspect. And Sirius's brother Regulus had signed up with the Death Eaters, so that made Sirius suspect, even though Sirius had run away from home and been disowned when he was sixteen. We continued to live together, but we became more cautious, not sharing much of importance. We even stopped sharing a bed. It was awful. And, well, you know what happened that Halloween night, and in the days just after. James and Lily dead, Harry orphaned, and Peter framing Sirius for two horrible crimes – leading Voldemort to the Potters, and blowing up all those muggles. Sirius was taken away and sentenced without a trial. I nearly lost my mind. I had lost everyone dear to me at once, and like everyone else, I thought Sirius was to blame. I'm so sorry, Pads, for not believing you were innocent. I could have done more to try to find the truth."

"I don't know what you could have done, Moony. The evidence was all against me. But when I finally got proof that Peter was alive, and I knew where to find him, I was on a mission. First, to catch Peter and set things right. And once I'd done that, I would find you. I knew that you probably hated me, that you thought I was a traitor. But I hoped that if I could prove my innocence by catching Peter, I could persuade you to love me again."

"But you didn't have to persuade me, Pads. Once I saw Peter on the map that night, it all fell into place. And then I saw you on the map, and I ran to you. My heart felt so light, finally knowing that you were innocent, and that my love for you had not been mistaken."

"Oh, you guys, what a story! And now you're together again, and so obviously happy and in love. I guess you're back to playing married in private, right back where you were after graduation. I wish… well, I guess there's no way you could do it, until the truth comes out about Peter one day. But wouldn't it be nice if you didn't have to pretend you were married? If you were able to have a wedding, or a partnership ceremony?"

Sirius smiled at her. "Yes, Hermione, that would be very nice. But you're right: it would all depend on Peter being caught and my innocence being established. Plus we'd have to come out of the closet to a lot of people – Harry, the Order…"

"I would love to go public one day," said Remus. "It might be a little weird at first to tell people who've known us for so long, but… I would like there to be some public evidence of our relationship. If something were to happen to us, I'd like there to be some record that we were together, that we had loved each other. That's actually been one of the great things about you finding us in the kitchen that night, Hermione – now at least another human being knows."

Hermione's eyes shone with excitement. "What if we held a private ceremony, right here – just us three? I could marry you! I don't have any official authority, of course, so it would still be a pretend marriage, and it would still be a secret, but would you like that? Any decent pretend marriage should have a pretend wedding, shouldn't it?"

"Absolutely," said Remus, leaning over to kiss Sirius.

"Mmmph," said Sirius, kissing him back.

"Then let's do it!" Hermione bustled around making preparations. She collected something old (the firewhiskey – they all had another shot), something new (the shot glasses they had conjured), something borrowed and something blue (her blue chenille bathrobe, which she had worn over her clothes when she first arrived, filled both categories). She spread the bathrobe on the floor, and instructed Sirius and Remus to stand on it. She grabbed her watch out of her pile of clothes, and transfigured it into two wedding rings. "Thank goodness it's a gold band, and not silver, Remus!"

"But Hermione," he protested, "didn't you need that?"

"No, this is more important," she replied impatiently. "Let it be my wedding gift to you. I'll replace the watch later. Now, are we ready?" She took her place, standing in front of them, looking very serious.

"Hermione, you're naked."

"Yeah, Sirius, so are you!"

Remus laughed loudly. "Since when did you become such a prude, Padfoot?"

"It just doesn't seem traditional," he muttered.

"Oh, pardon me for forgetting the proper wardrobe for a teenaged non-clergy member to wear when performing a secret pretend wedding for an escaped convict and a werewolf," she teased. "Do you want to get married, or not?"

"Fine! Be naked!" He scowled in jest. "Just don't expect me to be showing off my wedding photos to anyone!"

Hermione cleared her throat, and began. "We are gathered here today to join Remus John Lupin and Sirius Orion Black in holy wedded matrimony, or as close to it as we can manage, under the circumstances. This ceremony recognizes the love and partnership that this couple has had for many years, and is our best effort to formalize their union. May they continue to find joy in each other, for all the days of their lives. May their love inspire others, the way it has inspired me. Our reading is from William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116."

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
admit impediments. Love is not love  
which alters when it alteration finds,  
or bends with the remover to remove:  
Oh, no! It is an ever-fixed mark.  
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
it is the star to every wandering bark,  
whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.  
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
within his bending sickle's compass come;  
love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
but bears it out even to the edge of doom.  
If this be error and upon me proved,  
I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

Sirius was flabbergasted. "Hermione, you just happen to know Shakespearean sonnets off by heart?"

"Hermione is blessed with a near photographic memory, Padfoot. Never underestimate her."

She smiled. "Thank you, Remus! Now, please face each other, and hold hands. Remus, do you take Sirius to be your unlawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forth? Do you promise to love and honor him above all others?"

"I do," said Remus, enthusiastically.

"And Sirius, do you take Remus to be your unlawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forth? Do you promise to love and honor him above all others?"

"I definitely do."

"The wedding ring is a circle of gold. The gold represents that which is precious to us, and the circle represents eternity. Therefore, let these rings be a symbol of your precious and eternal love for each other. And yes, I know you won't be able to wear them around other people until you decide to come out to the Order and the Weasleys and Harry, whenever that may be. But I wanted you to have these anyway. Remus, you may place the ring on Sirius's finger, and say the words, 'with this ring, I thee wed.'"

"With this ring, I thee wed."

"Sirius, your turn."

"With this ring, I thee wed."

"I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom."

As they embraced, Hermione poured another shot of firewhiskey for everyone. This time, she was the one to propose the toast. "To Sirius and Remus! May you live long and happy lives together."

"Hear, hear," they cheered.

"And now that my unofficial duties are officially over," she told them with a wink, "I will leave the two of you to your honeymoon."

* * *

A/N: I just reread the section in PoA when R & S tell Hr, H & R their story, and was shocked to (re)discover that they had suspected each other of being the traitor. For my story, I invented reasons why they could have had any doubt about each other, but I still don't think they're convincing. 

More fun: Because I've been thinking so much about Remus & Sirius lately, and since my image of Sirius will now be forever be influenced by Gary Oldman, I checked out Oldman's filmography, and found he plays a gay writer in an OLD (1987) film called "Prick Up Your Ears." Since I've cast Sirius as gay (as so many fanfic writers have), I thought I'd see how Oldman plays it. I've loved Oldman ever since 1991's "Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead" (more Shakespeare…) Anyway, I got "Prick Up Your Ears" from the library, and MY GOD was he young! He pulls off the role really well, of course. He's a great actor. And, um, if you thought the Sirius in my story was a slut-puppy, he's got nothing at all on Oldman's character in this film. (Rated R.) It also features Julie Walters – Mrs. Weasley in the HP films – and I didn't recognize her at all. I think she plays his sister. Warning: This film is NOT a romantic comedy. It has comedic moments, but in the end is utterly tragic.

Almost done with this story. Not sure if the rest will make it all into one chapter or if it might take two… Stay tuned, and keep those reviews coming!


	15. Chapter 15: Graduation

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 15: Graduation

* * *

Hermione sat on her bed, chewing on the end of her quill as she proofread her work. It had to be perfect. Just as she had satisfied herself that there were no errors, a knock sounded at the bedroom door. "Just a moment," she called, as she rolled her parchment and tucked it away with her school things. When she opened the door, she found her favorite werewolf waiting patiently. What a lovely surprise. She felt a slight pang as she realized that this particular treat – opening her door to find Remus waiting for her – was not likely to happen again for a very long time.

He peered around her to make sure she was alone, and then his face relaxed into a warm smile. "Hello, love, I'm glad I caught you alone," he said.

She took him by the hand, and pulled him gently into the room. "What's up, Remus?"

"Just confirming our usual midnight rendez-vous," he said softly. "We wanted to be sure you planned to be there."

"But Remus, you're on your honeymoon," she whispered, keeping an eye on the doorway, in case Ginny should return. "I don't think I'd feel right." She dropped his hand.

Remus eyed the door as well, and made a move as if he might close it, but then appeared to think better of it. It wouldn't do to be caught behind closed doors in Hermione's bedroom. "In fact," he replied, "it's still my wedding day, since it was past midnight when we got hitched. January 11 – a nice date for an anniversary: all ones, easy to remember. That was such a sweet thing you did for us, Hermione. Listen, love, we won't do anything that would make any of us feel uncomfortable, I promise. But we do want to see you this one last night. Come on up for a graduation ceremony, won't you?"

She laughed softly. "Of course I will. I did want to see you both tonight, too, so we can say our goodbyes in private, instead of tomorrow, with an audience."

"Great," he said, looking relieved. "We'll see you at midnight then." He turned to leave.

"Remus," she called after him, "just out of curiosity… What would you have done if I was NOT alone?"

"Oh, thank you," he exclaimed, "I almost forgot! I had been hoping to confirm tonight with you, but if you weren't alone, I was just going to tell you and Ginny that I get to escort you all back to Hogwarts tomorrow! Tonks and I will take you. On the Knight Bus."

Hermione's face lit up, and she took a step toward him, wanting to hug him. He glanced up the hallway nervously, and she came to her senses and dropped her arms. "Remus, that's wonderful news," she sighed. "I know I'll feel perfectly safe with two such fine escorts. Hey – why don't we go tell the others? I think they're all in Harry and Ron's room. That's where I was about to go, anyway."

"That's perfect, Hermione," he agreed. "I was looking for Harry, too. Sirius is waiting for him in the library – I think he's going to try to have The Talk with him this morning."

She grinned as they left the room and went to find the others. They walked together down the hall, an awkward distance between them. She felt so close to Remus that she would have liked to hold his hand, or put an arm around him, but she knew that was out of the question. The door to the boys' room was open, and Harry and Ron were involved in a game of Exploding Snap, while Ginny lounged on Harry's bed, watching. They looked up inquiringly when Hermione and Remus appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, everybody," said Hermione brightly, "look who I found! Rem- Professor Lupin has some fun news!" She noticed that Ginny's eyebrows lifted briefly at her verbal slip. Hermione took a half a step further away from Remus.

He told Ginny, Harry, and Ron about their Knight Bus trip for the next day, to general excitement. Ron and Ginny had never ridden on the Knight Bus before.

"I wish Sirius could come with us, too," said Harry, "but I guess there's no way."

"No, Harry, there's not," Remus said gently, "but Sirius does want to spend more time with you before you go. In fact, he would like a word with you now, if you're free. He's down in the library." He met Hermione's eyes, and saw the corners of her mouth twitch in suppressed merriment.

"Cool, Professor," Harry said, jumping up, the game of Exploding Snap forgotten. "Thanks for letting me know!" He practically jogged out of the room in his hurry to visit with his godfather.

"We should let Fred and George know about the trip," said Ginny. "They've never ridden the Knight Bus, either."

"Yes," said Remus, "that's a good idea. However, I have some preparations to make, so I hope you don't mind if I leave it up to the three of you to pass along the message." He smiled at Ginny, Ron, and Hermione in turn, and then left the room.

* * *

Harry and Sirius were still in the library at lunchtime, so Mrs. Weasley sent in a tray of sandwiches. "I think it's good they're getting some time in before you all leave," she told the others in the kitchen. Hermione wondered if Mrs. Weasley would approve so heartily if she knew what Harry and Sirius were discussing.

"I know I'll miss you all when you've gone," Mrs. Weasley continued, "but I imagine it will be really hard for Sirius. It's been such a treat for him to have you young people here for this holiday." Hermione smiled to herself. Yes, Molly, it's been a real treat for some of us young people, as well! And as for things being really hard for Sirius, well… That was a common state for their host, she thought wryly. Unbidden, images of Sirius's rock hard erection sprang to Hermione's mind, and she squirmed slightly in her chair.

When Hermione shook her head to clear it, she found she had lost track of the conversation entirely. Tonks had joined them for lunch, and the Weasley children were suggesting many creative appearance changes she could make in order to keep herself disguised on their journey the next day.

Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "Tonks, dear, would you be able to run out and buy some groceries for me today? I wanted to make a special meal tonight, since it's our last one together for the holiday."

"Sure, Molly, no problem," answered Tonks, who at the moment was sporting very shaggy eyebrows, to Ginny's great amusement. "Just make me a shopping list, and I'll take care of it."

After lunch, Hermione lingered in the kitchen, helping to clean up, and listening as Mrs. Weasley and Tonks discussed the evening's menu. When Mad-Eye came through the fireplace unexpectedly to speak with Molly about bringing Arthur home from St. Mungo's, Hermione got a chance to talk to Tonks quietly, as she'd wanted. "Hey, Tonks," she said, placing a hand on the older witch's elbow, "could you do me a huge favor while you're out picking up groceries? Could you get me an inexpensive camera? I've been wishing I had one. I'll pay you back on the Knight Bus tomorrow."

"Sure, Hermione! Developing an interest in the art of photography, are you? Why so hush-hush?"

"No real reason, except I'm such an amateur. I don't want to call attention to my photography until I know what I'm doing."

"Do you know how to process the pictures so they move properly?"

"No, I don't, but that's fine. There's a Gryffindor fourth year student that I'm sure will help me. He knows everything about cameras, and I'm positive he would help me with the magical developing potion."

Tonks winked at her. "Hermione, I never would have imagined you with a younger man! But now I understand your sudden interest in photography, and why you don't want anyone else to know about it! Go on, girl, and use those feminine charms. I'm sure he'll do whatever you want. And don't worry, I won't say anything to your friends about your new… interests."

Hermione's eyes opened wide with shock. "Oh, Tonks, it's not like that at all! Colin is just a friend!"

Just then, and much to Hermione's relief, Mrs. Weasley joined them. "Tonks," she said excitedly, "we'll need to increase all the quantities of food. Mad-Eye's just said that Arthur is being released today and will be home in time for supper!"

"That's great news, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione, hugging her. "Can I tell the others, or do you want it to be a surprise?"

"Tell them, honey, tell them," said Mrs. Weasley, wiping happy tears from her eyes with the corner of her apron. "This news is too good to keep to ourselves."

Hermione fairly bounced out of the kitchen on her way upstairs to spread the cheer.

* * *

In the early afternoon, Harry came back upstairs, looking dazed and somewhat embarrassed. He sat on his bed, seemingly at a loss for what to do. Luckily, Ron distracted him with a game of chess. Ginny, Hermione, and Crookshanks watched, for lack of anything better to do. Well, Ginny and Crookshanks watched the game, Crookshanks eyeing the pieces, and Ginny restraining him gently.

Hermione was staring into space, in the general direction of the game, which provided good cover for her ruminations. She had a complicated relationship with time, the result of having used a time-turner extensively during her third year. Time could be manipulated, she thought, but there was no escaping the fact that when one was happy and distracted, it moved altogether too quickly. In some ways, she couldn't believe that two and a half weeks had already passed. And yet, somehow she also felt that she, Remus, and Sirius had always been so intimate. It was hard to remember a time when she was not so comfortable with them.

Everyone else was focused on the chess game, so no one noticed Hermione's wistful expression. Although she was sorry in many ways that her experience with Sirius and Remus had come to an end, she was happy about the note on which it had ended, she decided, and she was looking forward to getting back to her more legitimate studies and spending quality time again with her friends. For the second time in as many hours, Hermione shook her head to clear her mind, and tried to bring her attention back to her friends and the chessboard. Crookshanks had gotten more and more interested in the chess pieces, and Ginny was having a harder time holding him back. Hermione took the ginger fur ball from Ginny to give her a break, and watched the game unfold.

Harry had obviously been distracted from his earlier discomfort, and was cheering on the animated pieces when Mrs. Weasley popped in to tell Harry that Professor Snape wanted to see him. He muttered, "Weird day," under his breath as he reluctantly left them.

* * *

The day got weirder still for poor Harry. When Hermione and the Weasley family, including – finally – Mr. Weasley, entered the kitchen a short time later, she was horrified to see Sirius and Snape pointing their wands into each other's faces, and Harry trying to keep them separated. Not only had Harry been forced to talk to Snape, but he had also gotten caught in the middle of a very old feud between Snape and Sirius, who had hated each other since their school days.

During supper, Harry told her and Ron that he was being forced to pretend he was taking Remedial Potions with Snape so that Snape could teach him Occlumency, on Dumbledore's orders. Though Ron was appalled, Hermione secretly thought it was a good idea. It was unnerving how much access Voldemort had to Harry's mind, and the sooner that stopped, the better.

Sadly, Mrs. Weasley's hard work on the meal didn't get the attention it deserved. The near-duel between Sirius and Snape had cast a pall over the gathering. And though everyone was happy to see Arthur back and looking well, several of the diners were obviously feeling sad that this was the last day of the holidays, and that they would all be parting company so soon. Sirius was positively morose, and Harry seemed like he was ready to jump out of his skin with nerves. Hermione met Remus's gaze. They both glanced at Sirius and Harry, and gave each other a sad smile.

After dinner, Mrs. Weasley sent Hermione, Harry, and her children upstairs to pack their things for school. They would be departing shortly after breakfast the next morning. "And get to bed early, all of you," she warned, "so you're rested up for your travels."

* * *

Midnight found Hermione ignoring Mrs. Weasley's orders, and slipping into the master bedroom suite again, the pockets of her bathrobe filled with her new camera (Tonks had slipped it to her during supper, with a knowing smile) and the parchment she had been working on that morning. Sirius and Remus greeted her with hugs and kisses, as had become their tradition. Sirius seemed to be in better spirits, and the taste of his kiss told Hermione that firewhiskey had been involved in his mood adjustment. He cast the silencing charm on the room, and Remus cast the protective charm to repel Kreacher. They both turned to Hermione, as her charm was always next.

"Guys, I really don't think we're going to need the contraceptive charm tonight. I mean, you're on your honeymoon," she explained.

Sirius seemed a bit surprised, but Remus shushed him with a look, and said, "Of course, Hermione. That's very sensitive of you."

"Oh, speaking of which," she said, brightening suddenly, "I have something for you!" She brought out the roll of parchment from her pocket, and handed it to them. "It's a marriage certificate. Again, it's not official in the least, but it's the best I could do."

They looked over her handiwork, and then back to her. "Thank you, Hermione," said Remus. "You are so thoughtful. This is something we'll always treasure." Sirius nodded, apparently too choked up for speech.

"I had Tonks pick up a camera for me while she was out today, so I could take some photos of the two of you together," she added. "I'll get them processed at school, and then as soon as I can find a way to do it, I'll get copies to you. I won't be able to use an owl, as I'm pretty sure they're all being searched, but I'll find a way. And unless you plan to get naked for these photos, Sirius, these will be some wedding pictures you'll be able to share."

They spent the next several minutes on an impromptu photo shoot. Sirius, who seriously considered removing his clothing (but in the end, left them on), seemed quite comfortable in front of the camera, but Remus, at first, was shy. Sirius warmed him up with a hearty snog, which worked wonders.

Soon Remus was making suggestions. "How about one here, on the loveseat?" "What about one in front of the mantel?"

Hermione giggled, and kept shooting.

Eventually, Remus suggested they shoot a photo of Hermione, too, in honor of her graduation.

"Yes," agreed Sirius, "after all, we have so much to celebrate tonight!"

"You guys are so sweet," she cooed, and posed for Remus, who was now behind the camera.

Sirius cleared his throat, and stood tall. "Ladies and gentlemen, as your host with the most, I have the distinct pleasure of introducing our graduating class. Our own Hermione Granger, extraordinary student, quick learner, and daring experimenter, we bestow upon you the Latin academic honor of graduating '_man, she cums loudly_' from our program. Hermione, we are so proud of you."

"Speech, speech," cried Remus.

"You two are so silly," she chided gently. "Hmmm, I'm not really prepared to make a speech. How about this… When I enrolled in this program, it was my aim to learn about sex. You have indeed taught me much about sex, and by way of example, you've also taught me about love. It has been an honor and a pleasure to complete your educational program, and I could not be more grateful that you let me be a part of your lives for this period, and that you let me explore and experiment so thoroughly. I will always cherish the knowledge I have gained here, as I will always cherish you, my beloved teachers."

"I'll drink to that," said Sirius, and he moved to the nightstand to pour everyone a little firewhiskey. They clinked their glasses together, and downed their shots.

"Now, Hermione, we have something for you," said Remus, and he retrieved two small packages that had been hidden under the bed.

She sat on the loveseat, and opened the square package first. Inside was a beautiful new watch.

"You gave your watch to make sure we would have wedding rings, so we wanted to give you this one," said Remus.

"Turn it over," Sirius told her.

She did. Engraved on the back were the words, "To our secret weapon, with love and thanks."

"I love it," she told them. "Thank you both, so much, for this." She stood and hugged them both tightly.

"Open the other one," Sirius instructed.

Curious, she felt the other package. It was soft. She tore open a corner, and saw pink cloth. She ripped it open the rest of the way, and pulled out a pink t-shirt with red lettering that spelled out the words "Sex Kitten" across the chest.

"It's very cute, guys, but where on earth do you think I'll be able to wear this?"

"I, for one," said Remus with a sheepish grin, "was hoping you would sleep in it, and think of us every night."

"And look, Hermione, we have new shirts, too!" Sirius stripped off his shirt to show her the t-shirt he was wearing underneath. It was gray, but of a similar style to Hermione's. Emblazoned across his chest were the words "Slut Puppy."

She laughed, and turned to Remus. "And you, Remus? Let's see it."

He chuckled as he removed his top layer to reveal underneath a green t-shirt bearing the phrase "Big Bad Wolf."

"Emphasis on 'big,' naturally," said Sirius, winking.

Remus spanked him, playfully. "Oh, I can be bad, Padfoot."

"Yes, Moony, you certainly can," Sirius growled. "I do love it when you're feeling naughty."

"They're perfect. All of them," Hermione laughed. "Let me get your picture in these shirts, too!"

Then Sirius wanted a picture of Hermione in her new shirt, so she stripped off her blouse to change into it. "Hermione, you don't sleep in a bra, do you? Would you mind modeling your t-shirt braless so we can have a proper image of you in it the way you might look if you were wearing it to bed?"

She shrugged and did as he asked, but said, "You really are a horny dog, Sirius, you know that?"

He laughed. "I'll be sure to get that printed on my next t-shirt, Hermione!"

"Speaking of your dirty mind, Sirius, Remus told me you were going to have that sex talk with Harry today. How did that go? Harry seemed a bit… disoriented or something when he came back upstairs."

"Oh, Sweet Merlin, Hermione. It started out pretty crazy, but I think in the end he got the information he needed."

"Crazy, Sirius? I'm almost too afraid to ask…" They sat together on the love seat, in front of the fire.

"Well, of course, there is a godson-godfather confidentiality clause that prevents me from giving you any specific information about our discussion. But I think it would be all right to give you a general idea of how the conversation went."

"Oh, please! Whatever you think you can share without breaching that confidentiality. I'm so curious, knowing you as I do now, to hear how a sex talk with you would go!"

"I told him I wanted to talk more about his kiss with the Ravenclaw. That I gathered he could use a little help in the kissing department, and that maybe he could benefit from an old man's experience."

"Sirius, you didn't! What must he have thought, when you put it like that?"

"He took the bait, of course. 'Merlin's pants, Sirius,' he said, 'you're not propositioning me?!' And we laughed about it, so he was put more at ease. I told him that all I was proposing was a talk; that there is a certain discussion most fathers have with their sons at about this age, and obviously James never got a chance, and that I bet Dursley wouldn't even think of it, so I wanted to give it a shot myself. 'The sex talk,' he said. 'You want to give me the sex talk.' So I said, yeah, if not me, who? And if not now, when? 'Well,' he said, 'I did learn quite a bit recently from Seamus.' Seamus, eh, I asked him. And did this learning take the form of theory, or practical lessons?"

"Sirius! You didn't!"

"You keep saying that, Hermione, but yes, I did."

"Did he freak out?"

"A little. He shouted my name, like you just did. 'Sirius,' he yelped. 'Seamus is a bloke!' And I said, yeah, I'd gathered that. And I suggested that his reaction indicated that practical lessons were not involved. But then I told him there was nothing wrong with experimenting with a bloke – in fact, it's quite normal to be curious, especially at his age, and especially when one shares a dormitory with a bunch of other boys."

"Goodness, Sirius, you really did keep your talk quite broad. I wasn't thinking you'd have to be that explicit about it. What did he do when you talked about experimenting with boys?"

"He looked at me very seriously, and he said, 'Something tells me that this sex talk is going to be rather different from the one I would have gotten from my dad.' Then we just started talking about everything. I made sure he knows what's what and how the mechanics of things work, and thanks to you, Hermione, I was able to teach him the contraceptive charm. So I think he knows enough now to be safe and respectful, no matter who he winds up snogging next. Mostly, he just wanted tips on how to talk to girls."

"Oh no, Sirius. Did you give him a bunch of terrible pick up lines?"

"Hermione! I've never resorted to bad pick up lines. No, I just told him to listen carefully to what the girl is saying, talk more about her than about yourself, watch her body language for cues, and make sure she knows that she's the most important person in the world to you while you're together."

"Oh. I'm sorry I accused you of using bad lines. That actually sounds like it was very good advice, Sirius."

"Of course it was. How do you think I got Moony to fall in love with me?"

Remus, who had been following the conversation with interest from the nearby armchair, crossed to kneel next to the love seat and laid his head on Sirius's lap. "I never had a chance," he sighed happily.

Hermione smiled at the two lovers, and then checked the time on her new watch. "Listen, guys, I hate to say this, but Mrs. Weasley did have a point. I probably should be getting to bed so I have at least a little energy tomorrow. We're leaving so early that I won't be able to sleep in at all. I've saved a dose of the restorative draught, but that'll only get me so far."

Sirius and Remus stood, and took turns hugging her tightly. Tears sparkled in her eyes, but she blinked them back. "I guess this is goodbye, then," she said. "Please take care of each other, and know that I'll be missing you both terribly."

"No, you won't," teased Remus. "You'll fall in love with some boy and never think about us again. Just be sure to put all this new education to good use, love. Don't waste it on someone unworthy of you."

"Moony, what boy could be worthy of our Hermione? She needs someone older, more mature."

"Just… don't let it be Dumbledore, Hermione," Remus joked. "Not that much older, okay?"

"Oh, and for Merlin's sake, don't let it be Snape, Hermione," said Sirius, suddenly totally serious. "If he's ever ogling your sweaty body in the dungeon, like he did in your werewolf story, run away screaming and don't stop until you get to Gryffindor tower."

"You silly men. I solemnly swear I will not become sexually or romantically involved with either Severus Snape or Albus Dumbledore. Or Filius Flitwick or Rubeus Hagrid, for that matter!"

"That's a relief," sighed Remus.

"It is," agreed Sirius. "But Hermione, I wasn't really joking about Snape. I don't trust him. And now Harry has to study Occlumency with him, which seems to me like a recipe for disaster. I know you have enough to worry about, sweetheart, but would you try to keep an eye on Harry, too, and make sure Snape's not taking advantage of the situation and using it to abuse him?"

"I'll do my best, Sirius," she promised. She hugged them both again, then turned to go. At the door, she turned back and looked at them tenderly. "Goodnight," she said. "I love you both and I will never forget these sleepless nights with you as long as I live." And then she left, finally letting the tears come.

* * *

A/N: Well, that's it for Grimmauld Place and Hermione's winter break adventure with Remus and Sirius. I hope you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it. And I have loved connecting with so many of you through reviews, review replies, and private messages. This has been a real growth experience for me, and I think it's inspired me to make writing a more regular part of my life.

I do plan one more chapter, taking place in the early weeks of the term at Hogwarts. I am leaving for vacation, soon, though, and will not have much internet access for over a week, so it may not be until mid-February that I get the last chapter written and posted. Please stay tuned, and know that I will finish this as soon as I can.

Happy Groundhog Day, Happy Mardi Gras, and Happy Valentine's Day!


	16. Chapter 16: Distraction

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 16: Distraction

* * *

"_Huggin' and a kissin',_

_Dancin' and a lovin',_

_Wearin' next to nothin'_

'_Cause it's hot as an oven…"_

"What's that you're singing, Hermione?"

"What? Did I sing that out loud?" Hermione looked horrified, then flustered, then embarrassed, all in the space of two seconds. "I'm sorry, Neville," she finally replied, "It's just an old muggle song from when I was a kid."

* * *

Back at school, Hermione did her best to focus on her course work again. This proved to be more difficult than she had anticipated, however, for a number of reasons. Granted, Hermione was not the only person at Hogwarts who was having trouble focusing on schoolwork. Ten Death Eaters had escaped from Azkaban Prison right after the term had started, and for several days after the news was reported in the Daily Prophet, there was talk of little else in the hallways and common rooms. But in addition to the Death Eaters on the loose, Hermione had a number of other things keeping her from settling back into her usual studious ways. The fire in the Gryffindor common room was just one of them. 

In the past, she had always enjoyed curling up in a squashy armchair by the fire with a textbook. These days, unfortunately, she found the fire to be a major source of distraction. If she wasn't reminiscing about how beautiful Sirius and Remus looked making love by firelight, she was remembering her original Sirius fantasy, with his face appearing in the common room fire and asking her to meet him outside Honeydukes for a late-night tryst in the Shrieking Shack. She had become much more fond of that old building lately, and had privately renamed it the Shagging Shack, which retained nicely the alliteration of its original title, or simply the Love Shack, which apparently elicited audible bursts of her singing B-52's lyrics to herself. Sadly, it was studying, not singing, she was trying to accomplish. She finally had to admit to herself that the fireplace was no longer a productive place to work.

* * *

A second distraction, or perhaps more accurately second and third distractions together, came in the form of ginger-haired twins. Fred and George had both developed a habit of catching her eye and making suggestive gestures at her. This was irritating both because she had no intention of taking them up on their offer to replace Sirius and Remus as the "sexy older men" in her life (or her bed), and also because they invariably interrupted her train of thought when she had finally managed to get her mind on her work. She did have to admit they were pretty funny, communicating so much without words. 

A pair of hopeful smiles and each twin pointing at the other during a DA meeting clearly said, "Twins! You know you want it!" She tried very hard to frown at them, but all she could do was laugh. Wrong reaction, of course: all that did was encourage them.

An eyebrow waggle across a crowded common room asked the question, "Horny yet?" To which Hermione's inner voice always replied, "More than you'll ever know."

A languid tongue seductively licking a stray bit of jam from a pair of lips during breakfast in the Dining Hall conveyed, "We could keep you oh so satisfied." Hermione wasn't sure they'd ever be able to measure up to Sirius and Remus in skill and sheer desirability, but they might make up for it with youthful energy and enthusiasm as well as a potentially dangerous combination of creativity and fearlessness… A threesome with the twins would undoubtedly be both satisfying and memorable, but she reminded herself firmly that she wasn't going find out. It would be sex only: she didn't have feelings for Fred and George and couldn't imagine developing them. Her explorations with Sirius and Remus had deepened her friendship with them, but had left her more acutely aware of what she was missing. She wanted to experience love like she had seen between her two friends. The next time she got involved with someone, she wanted some romance. She gave her head a small shake to indicate that they had no chance, which caused her curls to bounce, which made George pretend to swoon. The twins were definitely cute and funny, but they were a major disruption.

* * *

Hermione attempted to study more in the library, away from the fireplace and the twins, but concentrating was still difficult. She frequently found herself smiling at the thought of Remus and Lily at their favorite table. (Which table was it? This one?) 

If she had been Lily during those weeks that she was secretly sleeping with Remus, Hermione knew she wouldn't have gotten any work done at all. Sitting unbearably close to Remus must have made Lily want nothing more than to slip under the table and surreptitiously tend to his throbbing hard-on. Unless perhaps Lily was more of an exhibitionist, who would have wanted to sweep all the books, quills, and ink bottles to the floor in a grand gesture and have sex right there on the tabletop in full view of Madam Pince and all the other library patrons.

But Lily would have done neither. Instead, Hermione imagined Lily and Remus accidentally-on-purpose brushing hands as they worked, and Lily finding every brush of skin on skin, every rise and fall of Remus's chest as he breathed, and every meeting of their eyes deeply erotic. Merely sitting next to Remus and trying to study, Hermione thought, would have left Lily with a flushed face, soaked knickers, ragged breathing, and nipples aching for contact. She knew she herself would have found it sweet agony to be so tantalizingly close, breathing in his scent and feeling the warmth radiating off his skin, but not to be able to give in to her desires. How Lily managed to learn anything during those study dates was beyond Hermione, as she herself was driven to distraction by merely envisioning herself in Lily's place. The library had become a place where Hermione could easily lose herself, but not in her schoolwork. How ridiculous, she told herself, to be unable to study in the library because it made her think too much about sex!

* * *

Hermione also found she was absolutely unable to keep her mind off of sex during Defense Against the Dark Arts classes – but not because they reminded her of anything sexy, like the library did. Delores's toad face and simpering little-girl voice were the opposite of sexy. The problem was that the class was so boring and useless that Hermione's mind began to wander almost instantly once she sat down. 

More often than not, she spent the entire class period lost in a daydream involving Sirius and Remus and a large bed or an oversized Jacuzzi, and sometimes chocolate sauce and whipped cream. These daydreams got her so worked up that once or twice she almost reconsidered her position on the Fred and George issue. Instead, she furiously knitted elf hats by hand, head bowed and knitting needles flashing menacingly. The number of hats in the common room each night, she realized eventually, was a good indicator of her level of sexual frustration.

* * *

And then, there was Colin Creevey. Hermione had wasted no time in cornering Colin in the common room so she could learn about developing her film. To say that Colin was happy to help would be a vast understatement. 

"No problem, Hermione," he insisted, "I would love to help you develop your film!"

"Keep your voice down, Colin," she hissed. Hermione hadn't expected Colin to actually be present while she developed the pictures. How would she explain the presence of wanted criminal Sirius Black in a Slut Puppy t-shirt? Or the presence of Colin's former DADA professor cuddling with said wanted criminal? "Actually," she explained, "I'd prefer if you could just help me get the supplies and tell me what I need to do, so I could develop them myself."

"But Hermione, it's a complicated procedure, and if you make a mistake, the film could get ruined. How about this," he proposed, "I'll talk you through the process and watch to make sure you do it right, but I'll let you do the actual developing so you can learn how!"

"Thank you, Colin. I do want to learn, and your offer to supervise is generous, but I'd rather keep these pictures… private, if there's any way I could do the whole thing on my own."

"Ohhhhh," he said, knowingly. "I see – they're artistic photos! Very exciting! Are they of you? Nudes? Semi-nudes? You know, I'm a really good photographer… I'd love to work with you on future photo shoots!"

"NO," she protested, a little too loudly. Shit, Colin Creevey wanted to take 'artistic' photos of her? Why, the little pervert! "Colin, it's not like that. I think there's only one picture of me, and it's definitely not the kind of picture you're talking about. No, these photos are just… private. And I also need you to keep this conversation private. No one – not ANYONE – can know I was asking you about this."

"Wow, Hermione, a super secret photography mission! You know I won't say a word. Anything for you, of course. I do think I should be there while you develop your film, though. I can keep a secret about what's in your pictures!"

Hermione groaned and sank into a chair with her head in her hands. This was going nowhere.

In the end, they compromised. Colin stayed with Hermione while she developed the pictures, but she insisted he close his eyes quite often during the processing. He giggled throughout the experience, but was able to guide her well enough. After about an hour in the Room of Requirement, which at Colin's prompting had manifested itself as a perfectly equipped darkroom, Hermione had a dozen moving photos of Sirius and Remus, and the one of herself that Remus had snapped (Sirius apparently never got around to shooting her in her Sex Kitten shirt, which was quite fine with her).

That night, she flipped through the pictures of Sirius and Remus to pick just one to keep for herself. It was an easy decision – the one in their new t-shirts was irresistible. They were both laughing, with their arms around each other's shoulders. Their shirts fit snugly, emphasizing their broad shoulders and muscular chests. Yes, this was definitely the one to keep. She would send the others to the guys as soon as she could find a way.

Hermione actually wasn't crazy about the photo of herself. It was strange to see her own figure waving up at her from the print. Disconcerting. She didn't think she wanted to keep it for herself, and realized that it would be incriminating if Harry were ever to find it in Sirius's possession or Remus's. The next day, she slipped it to Colin to thank him for his help.

He was, naturally, thrilled. "Geez, Hermione, you look so different in this picture," he gushed. "Totally relaxed and happy, you know? Radiant, even! Whoever took this picture really did a great job. I mean, not that you don't always look great, but there's just something different in your smile and your eyes and even your body language. You know, I really am quite good with a camera myself, Hermione. Are you sure you wouldn't want to pose for me some time?"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Colin, are you thinking about those 'artistic' photos again?"

He blushed, and she smiled, despite herself. "Well, just please let me know," he said shyly, "if there is ever anything else I can do to help you. Anything at all, Hermione. And thanks again for the photo. I really like it."

"No problem, Colin. I'm glad you like it. Remember, though, these pictures need to be our little secret."

"Of course," he grinned, and he winked at her conspiratorially.

Hermione chuckled quietly, reminded of how Tonks had thought she was interested in photography because it was a way to get closer to Colin. As it turned out, photography looked like a good way to get very close indeed to Colin, if that were something she ever desired. But Colin was cute in a cuddly, mascot kind of way, not in a potential boyfriend kind of way, so she doubted that she would ever want to pursue a relationship with him.

Over the next weeks, Colin – who had always been friendly – went out of his way to be extra-friendly to Hermione. He always had a smile and a greeting for her, sat as close to her as possible during mealtimes and in the common room, and volunteered to partner with her during DA meetings. Even Ron, who was usually oblivious (and hadn't even realized his own brothers were coming on to her), noticed Colin's behavior.

"Hermione," Ron whispered to her in Charms class one day, "it looks like Creevey has a bit of a crush on you, eh? He follows you like a love-sick puppy." Good grief, was Ron feeling threatened by Colin Creevey? Not that he deserved it, but Hermione decided to put Ron at ease.

"You've got that right," she whispered back. "Colin's a nice guy and I am flattered by his attention, but it is hard to focus on my homework with him at my elbow so much recently. For a fairly small person, he can be a rather large distraction."

Ron grinned sympathetically, seemingly satisfied with Hermione's response.

* * *

Hermione's biggest distraction, at least in a literal sense, was a chunk of rock almost 3500 kilometers in diameter. Even when the moon was not filling her dormitory window, it filled her thoughts. As the full moon approached, she replayed over and over that part of her werewolf fantasy in which she and Remus sat together in a moonlit clearing and howled at the moon for the sheer joy of doing it. Over at Grimmauld Place, her dear sweet Remus would soon be undergoing his painful transformation. She hoped Professor Snape would be bringing him the wolfsbane potion, so that he would not be a danger to himself or to Sirius. She wished she could be there to pet him and soothe him. 

During supper, when the enchanted ceiling in the Dining Hall showed the moon low, perfectly round, and bright orange in the sky, Hermione excused herself before the pudding was served. She ran up to her empty dormitory, taking the steps two at a time. She threw open her window. The moon was so low, and her tower dormitory so high, she almost felt she could reach out and touch it. She leaned out of the window as far as she dared, and howled for all she was worth. Then she sat down on her bed, threw her head back onto her pillow, and laughed at herself. What had come over her? Who ever heard of someone having sympathetic werewolf symptoms?

Suddenly, she realized Remus actually HAD bitten her – and on more than one occasion. But he hadn't broken her skin, and he was still in human form at the time, so she couldn't have been infected, could she? Hermione checked her arms and her hands. They appeared to be no hairier than usual. So that was it then – the moon was full, and she was fully human, except for her insane, undeniable urge to howl at the moon. Of course she was fine. Remus would never have knowingly put her at risk, no matter how caught up he had been in their experimentations. Her favorite werewolf had gotten into her pants, but not into her blood.

Parvati and Lavender stopped into the dormitory after supper, and found Hermione lying on her bed, laughing. "What's so funny," Parvati asked, warily.

"Oh, nothing," she gasped, "I'm just so relieved that I'm not a werewolf!"

Parvati and Lavender exchanged knowing glances, as if they'd known Hermione would crack up eventually. "We're glad, too, Hermione," said Lavender, "seeing as how we all sleep in the same dorm each night!"

"Don't worry," Hermione told them, still giggling, "I promise not to bite you."

"That's great, Hermione," said Parvati. "So… we were just here to get our things so we can work on our Divination essays in the common room."

"Yes," Lavender concurred, "don't let us distract you from your… your… Well, we'll just be on our way." They quickly grabbed their book bags, and almost ran back down the stairs – which made Hermione laugh even harder.

* * *

Hermione wondered if she were becoming a lunatic, in the original sense of the word: if the phases of the moon were causing her to have bouts of insanity. But as days passed, Hermione redefined the word "lunatic." If the term could instead be applied to someone who experienced bouts of insanity whenever she was around Luna Lovegood, then Hermione was certain she could be the poster girl for the condition. 

She blamed Remus and Sirius. If they hadn't told her that most people swung both ways at least a little, she never would have considered girls in any romantic sense, let alone a sexual way. But they had said it, and she had considered it, and she had been shocked to find her thoughts turning inexplicably to Luna Lovegood. And she had resolved to pay a bit more attention to the girl to see if it seemed that Luna might possibly think of her, too. Because they were in different houses and different years, Hermione had limited opportunities to observe Luna: mealtimes, mostly, and DA meetings. So she tried to take full advantage of those times, and learn as much as she could. She hoped that no one noticed.

Luna was an interesting subject to study. She seemed to be friendly toward everyone, but not really friends with anyone. Her large eyes gave her an air of innocence, and she often looked as if she were staring into space, unaware of her surroundings. But after a few days of observation, Hermione learned to tell by the subtle shifts in Luna's body posture that she was tuned in to everything going on around her. Luna was a quick learner in DA meetings, and seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing what spell her opponent would cast in their practice duels, as well as a creative streak in finding an unexpected way to counter or block whatever came her way. In fact, upon closer inspection, Luna appeared to be extremely attentive to detail, without looking like she was paying attention at all. That's what made her so dangerous in duels – her opponents tended to underestimate her, and let their guard down. Hermione made a mental note never to underestimate Luna.

One detail that apparently caught Luna's attention was that Hermione was watching her. It was unnerving to Hermione – as if Luna had a magical eye like Moody's. One day at lunch, Hermione was watching the back of Luna's head from across the Dining Hall. She was mesmerized by the way Luna's hair cascaded down her back in blonde waves, almost reaching the bench. And she found the tip of Luna's wand peeking out from where she had it tucked behind her ear oddly endearing. She watched Luna's right foot tapping under the table, as if Luna were humming a catchy tune to herself while she ate. And without warning, Luna swept her hair over her shoulder as she suddenly turned around in her seat to look directly into Hermione's eyes. Hermione was surprised and embarrassed to be caught staring. She blushed deeply, smiled, and turned her attention to her pumpkin juice until she was sure Luna had turned back to her own meal. Luna, interestingly, had not looked surprised at all to find Hermione staring; it was as if she had known all along that she was being watched. And she didn't look either upset or particularly happy about being observed, she merely seemed to be making note of the fact.

At supper that evening, the tables were almost literally turned. Luna had seated herself so that she was facing the Gryffindors. This made it difficult for Hermione to watch Luna without being obvious about it. So she tried not to look at all, and to keep her attention on her own food as well as her conversation with Harry and Ron. But she found that her eyes wandered frequently to the Ravenclaw table, where, inevitably, Luna would be watching her with a curious expression. Hermione again blushed and smiled. Luna, again, was unreadable.

Later that night, in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was trying to write a Transfiguration essay, but not succeeding very well, between Fred and George's flirtatious winks, Colin's offer to show her his portfolio, Ron's heavy hints that he needed help on his own essay, and the flames in the grate that would have made Sirius's tattoos dance and Remus's scars glow. Besides, who could think about Transfiguration, when Luna had been staring at her throughout supper? She eventually gave up her studies (or lack thereof) for the night, packed up her things, and climbed the stairs to her dormitory. As she was stacking her books on her bedside table, Ginny appeared in the doorway.

"I know her better than most do, you know," Ginny said softly.

"Who?"

"Luna, you daft girl. I noticed you watching her at lunch today. You seem like you've been rather curious about her, and, well, I might be able to help. We often partner up in Care of Magical Creatures, so I guess you might say we're friends. Was there something in particular you were hoping to learn?"

Damn, Hermione thought. It had been too much to hope that no one would notice her watching Luna. Really, Ginny was far too observant for her own good. What the hell was Ginny doing watching her that closely, anyway? Hermione took a deep breath before answering, trying to come up with any reasonable explanation for her behavior. "Nothing specific, I guess. She just seems so mysterious. She's one of Harry's strongest supporters, and one of the DA's most loyal members, but I feel I don't really know her. It's easy to just write her off as a spacey oddball, but I get the feeling there's much more to her than that."

"Of course there is, Hermione. People aren't stereotypes. Luna may be a bit unusual in her dress and some of the things she says, but writing her off as anything at all would be a shame. She's really a lovely and interesting person."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that, Ginny. I had a feeling she would be. What can you tell me? What are her favorite classes? Who are her favorite teachers? What is her favorite place to go in Hogsmeade? Does she have any sisters or brothers? Any pets? How does she like to spend her holidays?" Hermione was surprised to hear the number of questions that were pouring out of her mouth, and stopped, breathless. She had more questions, but didn't dare voice them. Is Luna kind? Trustworthy? A romantic? A good kisser? She hoped those were questions Ginny wouldn't be able to answer, anyway.

"Why don't you ask her some of those questions yourself, Hermione? I think Luna would love to be able to count you as another friend."

"It's easier for you, Ginny – you share classes with her sometimes. I only see her at DA meetings and in the Dining Hall, and neither is a very good time to chat her up about herself." Hermione heard the almost desperate tone in her voice, and again wondered about her own sanity.

Ginny sized her up silently for a moment. "Greenhouse three," she finally said.

"What?"

"Greenhouse three. Luna likes to study there during the winter. It's warm, she says, and it smells like dirt, and it's full of living things. You could probably find her there between classes and get to know her a bit better, if that's what you want to do."

Hermione's active imagination took over: a warm, steamy greenhouse, condensation on the windows making it very private, and Luna, alone, and having shucked some layers in the moist heat. What on earth would she say? Hi, I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but I can't stop thinking about you, and want to get to know you better? Actually, that didn't sound half bad… But she got a grip on herself, and realized how inconsiderate it would be to barge into the girl's sanctuary and interview her. Though the setting sounded perfect, she knew she shouldn't go. "Thanks for the tip, Ginny. I do want to find some time to get to know her better, but I think I shouldn't interrupt her studies in the greenhouse. I wouldn't want to be a distraction."

"All right then. But I do think you will like her when you get to know her. She's very different from you in some ways, but very like you in others. I hope you find an opportunity to talk with her sometime soon."

As Ginny returned to the common room, Hermione sighed deeply and sat on her bed. Yes, it was quite possible she might like Luna very much when she got to know her. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

* * *

A/N: Back from vacation, where I wrote quite a bit, longhand, attempting to finish up. I know I keep dragging this out, but I say again: there will be one more chapter. I've got a solid draft of it, and I'm almost positive I can wrap it up in just one more installment, though now I'm dying to write a Hermione & Luna in the Greenhouse scene… Perhaps it will just be another long chapter. I'm noticing they've gotten longer and longer as I go. Thanks for sticking with me this far! 

Please review and let me know how I'm doing now that Hermione is back at school and dealing with the repercussions of her holiday extracurricular activities. Should she go to the greenhouse to see Luna? Should she give Colin or Fred & George a chance? Is it realistic to think that Hermione would have this hard a time getting back to her studies? Do 16-yr old hormones and a seriously oversexed winter holiday give her an excuse to not live up to her usual academic standards for a while?

By the way, the lyrics at the beginning are written by K. Pierson, F. Schneider, K. Strickland, and C. Wilson, and are from the B-52s song "Love Shack", which was on the 1989 album "Cosmic Thing" on the Reprise label.


	17. Chapter 17: Tension

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 17: Tension

* * *

"Your assignment today is to brew a Restorative Draught," said Professor Snape. "And mind you pay careful attention to the process, as this potion could certainly turn up on your O.W.L. examinations." 

Hermione bit down the glee that threatened to escape her lips, and set to work. School had been back in session for almost two weeks, and it had been difficult to maintain her academic standards with so many distractions. Here at last was an assignment at which she knew she could excel. And Snape thought it would be on the O.W.L. as well: finally, a bit of good news to counteract the mass breakout from Azkaban, the death of Broderick Bode, and the latest of Umbridge's Educational Decrees.

She produced a perfect potion, and in less time than anyone else in class, since she didn't need to refer to the instructions on the blackboard before, during, and after each step of the preparation as the rest of her classmates did. It was hard not to break into a happy dance, but she resisted the urge. She scooped some of the familiar potion into a glass phial, stoppered it, and brought it to Snape's desk with a confident smile and fifteen minutes to spare. He held the phial up, carefully examining the potion's color, and tipped it from side to side to check the viscosity. Still not betraying his thoughts with any expression, he next trained an appraising eye on Hermione herself. She stood perfectly still, her smile having turned into a defiant stare. Go on, she silently dared him, just try to find something wrong with my potion.

Finally, he spoke. "Miss Granger, you will stay after class." It was not a question, and not an invitation. It was an order.

She nodded, then turned on her heel and returned to the work table she was sharing with Harry, Ron, and Neville, all three of whom were scrambling to complete their work before the end of class. Harry and Ron both asked her in concerned whispers what was wrong, but she shook her head and refused to meet their eyes, staring resolutely at the tabletop instead. Inside, Hermione was seething, but she was afraid of showing her anger to her friends, lest they do anything stupid on her behalf. How dare Snape keep her after class, she fumed. On what technicality was she in trouble this time? She knew her potion was flawless. Would Snape accuse her, somehow, of cheating? Her heart sank as she realized that her skill with the Restorative Draught, instead of earning her the high marks she deserved, was likely to lose Gryffindor a healthy number of house points. It was so unfair, she thought, clenching her fists and waiting for the room to clear out, and ignoring the curious glances of the other students as they left.

"It'll be okay, Hermione," Harry said bracingly as he packed up his belongings.

"Yeah, Hermione, we'll see you at lunch, all right," added Ron, patting her sympathetically on the shoulder.

When the classroom was finally empty, save for Hermione and Professor Snape, she marched up to his desk and met his eyes with a fierce glare. Snape selected Hermione's potion from the collection of glass phials on his desk. Silently, as if he were evaluating a fine wine, he once again raised it to get a clearer look at its color, and swirled it around to check its consistency. He pulled out the stopper, and inhaled its aroma, then – dipping in his little finger and sucking on it gently with his eyes closed – tasted it. "This is not the first time you have brewed the Restorative Draught," he finally stated. Again, it was not a question. His eyes were still closed, his expression unreadable.

Hermione hesitated, but decided it couldn't hurt to admit she'd had practice. "No, Sir," she replied. She had learned from experience that it was best to say as little as possible in front of Professor Snape, as he had a tendency to use her words against her.

"And might I inquire what circumstances compelled you to brew the Restorative Draught?" His tone was dangerous.

"No, Sir," she replied again.

Snape's eyes flew open. "No matter," he said silkily. "I believe I understand the basic situation even without your testimony. You Gryffindors tend to wear your emotions on your robes, as though they were badges of honor. You're so transparent. While I could employ legilimency to learn what you are thinking, no such skills are required to learn what you are feeling. I read quite a bit in the eyes of Sirius Black as he and I argued and almost dueled just before the start of term. I was intrigued to discover that Potter is not the only Hogwarts student for whom Black has strong feelings. It may also interest you to know that I had an illuminating conversation with a certain werewolf ex-professor when I delivered his potion just before the full moon last week. He mentioned your name."

Hermione willed herself to remain silent, and waited. He cannot know, she told herself. He is only guessing. Do not give anything away.

"Frankly, Miss Granger," Snape continued, "I thought you had better judgment." An unpleasant smile spread slowly across his face. "And better taste."

Do not respond, Hermione warned herself. He's baiting you!

"Miss Granger, I promise you I have not let myself imagine whatever it is you have been doing with Black and Lupin that has caused them both to be so concerned about you," said Snape coolly, though his leer suggested he actually had let himself imagine it, "because I rather enjoy keeping my lunch down. However, I suspect that your… affiliation… with them is the reason for your facility with the Restorative Draught. Though it pains me to say it, I have rarely seen such excellent work on any potion from a Fifth Year."

So he's not accusing me of cheating, Hermione realized. He's just accusing me of being involved with Sirius and Remus. He could do far worse with that knowledge than merely taking house points… "Thank you, Sir," she said, looking now at his desk rather than his face, hoping not to give him opportunity to read more in her eyes than she cared to give away.

"Lupin mentioned that you might be interested in learning to brew the Wolfsbane Potion, to be a back-up in the event that I should become… indisposed. Is that true?"

Could she believe her ears? Was he actually considering teaching her how to brew it? "Yes, Sir," she whispered, risking eye contact again.

"As you are no doubt aware, Miss Granger, I am involved in dangerous work on behalf of the Order of the Phoenix. I, of course, suggested a memory charm for you and your little friends, as the mere fact that you all know of my association with that group puts me at incalculable risk. Sadly, Dumbledore wouldn't hear of it. But if the nature of my assignment ever got into the wrong hands, then yes, I would most certainly not be available to brew that potion for my former colleague."

Hermione's eyes had widened at the mention of the proposed memory charm, and narrowed when he suggested that she, Harry, or any of the Weasleys would sell him out to Voldemort. But of course, she realized, he was telling the truth. Voldemort certainly had ways of extracting information from captives that were likely to be just as effective as – and far less pleasant than – Veritaserum. So the more people that knew of Snape's double-agency, the greater his chances of being discovered. Unwillingly, she suddenly felt a greater respect for her Potions master. Perhaps Gryffindor was not the only house where courage was to be found. She looked at him in a new way, and found that he seemed to be considering her in a new light, as well.

"The Wolfsbane Potion is very difficult to produce, Miss Granger. When Lupin told me of your desire to apprentice me in its manufacture, I told him you were incapable of the finesse required to make it correctly. But your work today on the Restorative Draught, though it is a far simpler concoction, has made me reconsider. If you are able to create these results without my instruction, then perhaps given enough time and practice you could be trained to brew the Wolfsbane Potion."

"Thank you, Sir," Hermione said again. And thank you, Remus, she thought, for having actually suggested my idea to Snape.

"I know Potter will have told you of his Remedial Potions lessons with me this term. I am not pleased to add your apprenticeship to my schedule, Miss Granger, as I certainly have better things to do with my evenings that to spend them doing extra work with Gryffindors. But if you do sincerely want to put in the time and effort, you may come to this room on Thursday evenings, starting tonight, at eight. I will arrange for you to have detention every week to give you an excuse to come here. I have two conditions, other than you giving nothing less than your best efforts. First, that no one outside of the Order can know about our work together. Can you keep a secret, Miss Granger, even from Potter and Weasley? I assume you've become quite good at keeping secrets about your extracurricular activities."

"Yes, Sir," she said. What was she getting herself into? Just as she had stopped having to lie to Harry and Ron about one activity, she was agreeing to another secret. Was learning to brew the Wolfsbane Potion worth the toll her continued deception would take on her, and possibly on her friendships with Harry and Ron?

"And second," he continued, "you must keep as quiet as possible about our 'detentions' as well. Now that the High Inquisitor has authority over all punishments, it wouldn't do for her to be aware of our weekly appointments. She could intervene, and give you her own punishments, which – apart from the fact that you would greatly dislike Delores's punishments – would slow down our progress on the potion. That would displease me. I do not like to have my time wasted."

"Of course, Sir."

"Then I will see you tonight. If your friends ask, you will tell them that I believe you cheated on your work today, and gave you detention. You will tell them not to say anything about it, because you would rather clean out my storeroom than have detention with the High Inquisitor."

"Yes, Sir."

"This will be hard work, Miss Granger. But if you are a good girl, and follow my instructions to the letter, I might let you accompany me to Headquarters at the next full moon to deliver the potion."

Hermione was unable to suppress her smile. "Thank you, Sir," she said again, and she turned to leave. Yes, to see Remus and Sirius again at Grimmauld Place, even under the penetrating gaze of Severus Snape, was worth the inevitable lies. To learn how to help Remus in case he ever needed her – it was worth it. She understood that Snape's need for secrecy was merely an effort to manage his own risk.

As she reached the door, Snape called to her softly. She stopped, and turned to him. His black eyes were flashing a warning. "Miss Granger, I do hope that over the winter holidays you managed to get that kind of nonsense out of your system. Now that you're back in my classroom, and now that you will be my apprentice for the Wolfsbane Potion, you will need to be well rested and attentive, not distracted by late-night pursuits. If you disappoint me, our work together will end without warning. I do not give second chances."

"I understand, Sir. Thank you for giving me this one chance. I won't disappoint you."

Hermione left the dungeons and slowly climbed the stairs to the Great Hall. She had a lot to think about before she was ready to face Harry and Ron. Here, finally, was a potential way to deliver her photographs to Sirius and Remus. The prospect of seeing them soon was exciting. She would have to be very careful not to disappoint Snape, and blow this opportunity. It was unnerving that this part of her werewolf fantasy was coming true: she would be working closely with Snape, and learning to make the potion that Remus needed every month. In the fantasy she had spun with Remus, Snape had desired her, but had not actually molested her. She prayed that she had been wrong about his desires, but his words came back to her and she felt her stomach contract in fear: be a good girl, follow my instructions to the letter, do not disappoint me.

She wondered what Sirius would think of her new arrangement with Snape, his old enemy. Remus obviously thought it would be safe for her to spend hours alone in the dungeon with the Potions master, but Sirius had given her a fairly specific warning. He didn't trust Snape. But Remus did, after two years of taking potions brewed by the Slytherin, and Dumbledore did, too. Hermione had great faith in the Headmaster. Though it was sometimes hard to understand his motivations, such as when he had forbidden her and Ron to tell Harry anything of importance last summer, she did trust his judgment. She decided to give Snape the benefit of the doubt, but to remain on her guard around him nonetheless.

* * *

Hermione's ruminations – and her feet – had carried her to the Great Hall. She put on her best expression of defeat (not a familiar emotion, and therefore hard to imitate), and pushed through the door into the Dining Hall. She plopped down between Harry and Ron, who looked at her quizzically. 

"What happened with Snape," asked Ron. "He can't be upset with you. Your potion didn't turn out THAT bad."

"I just can't win with him," she sighed in pretend anguish. "He treats me badly when my potions aren't perfect, and now he treats me badly when they come off right! He accused me of cheating, and gave me detention for tonight."

Harry spluttered into his pumpkin juice, and Ron practically shouted, "He can't do that! Bloody hell! What proof has he got? This is so unfair! You would NEVER cheat!"

Hermione quieted him down quickly, explaining about not wanting to get Umbridge involved.

By this time, Harry had recovered, and joined in, hissing angrily, "That slimy git! You're the most honest person I know, Hermione!"

She blushed at the undeserved praise. In the past, Hermione had prided herself on her truthfulness, but it was not a quality she could claim lately. Luckily, Harry and Ron were too busy cursing Snape under their breath to have noticed her discomfort. They could be so predictable, those two. How interesting, she mused, that one person who was definitely not predictable was Severus Snape. He had surprised her more in the past half hour than Harry or Ron had done in the past year.

* * *

Hermione's first lesson on the Wolfsbane Potion lasted two hours – two incredibly intense hours. Snape started the lesson in his storeroom, showing her how to pick the best quality ingredients, for maximum potency. Then they worked side by side cutting leaves, crushing seeds, and extracting juices. He had let her use his best knives, mortars and pestles, so that she could do the work as accurately as possible. 

After each step, they evaluated her progress. If any ingredient was not prepared to Snape's exacting standards, he made her repeat the process, and reevaluate her results. Were her leaves cut as fine as his? They ran their fingers through both piles of cut leaves to compare the texture. Was the juice she extracted as clear as his? They swirled both phials in the torchlight looking for impurities. Did her seeds release as much aroma when crushed as his had done? He covered her eyes and had her smell the results in each bowl, to see if she could tell any difference.

As Hermione stood with Snape's body close behind her, and his palms covering her eyes, she felt so vulnerable it caused a shiver to run down her spine. "Yes, these dungeons can get cold at night," he said, and she heard the smirk in his voice. He moved two inches closer to her, so that he was pressed lightly against her from behind. It wasn't an obscene amount of pressure, and thank Merlin she didn't have to ask him if that was his wand in his pocket or if he was just glad to see her. She inhaled the seeds' scent deeply, begging silently for an identical odor. But she had to admit there was a difference: one bowl had a more pungent aroma than the other. She needed to give her best work to the project, so that Snape would continue to teach her. So she selected more seeds, and ground the new batch as thoroughly as she could. When he covered her eyes again for the evaluation, she thought her sample smelled exactly like his. She held her breath as he closed his eyes in concentration and took a deep sniff over each bowl. When he opened his eyes, he nodded to her, pleased with her efforts. She sighed in relief.

When he was finally satisfied that she could properly select and prepare the ingredients for the potion, he announced that the lesson was over. Hermione gasped when she looked at her watch and saw that it was ten o'clock. "Time does fly when you're having fun, now, doesn't it," he said, sardonically. "We'll save the actual brewing of the potion for our next lesson. Don't forget, I will be giving you detention again in a week so that we can continue. Sooner, of course, if you deserve it."

"Yes, Sir," she said. "Thank you, Professor. I've learned a lot tonight." She was backing out of the door.

"Of course you have, Miss Granger. Good night."

* * *

A/N: Just a little Snape-y interlude. I'm not even sure it's that important to the plot, but I've been wanting to write something like this for Snape for several chapters, and only just now managed to squeeze him in. But at what a cost: it's delayed publication of my next chapter, which will have a smutty scene several of you have requested – and it's turning out to be wayyy more smutty than anything I've written yet. Not sure what's come over me in that regard. I'm still a bit nervous about posting it, because for me, it's pretty over-the-top. Encouragement? Come on, people, let me know that you really want the smut, and I'll let you have it. (If you don't really want the smut, I'll let you know at what point you should skip ahead to the final paragraph, deal?) 

Oh, by the way, the smutty next chapter wasn't planned, it's just in response to some reviewer requests. That means I'm now looking at at least 19 chapters... How long can this go on??


	18. Chapter 18: Release

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 18: Release

WARNING: This chapter is far smuttier and the language far coarser than anything I have written so far. If you can't take it, just stop reading when Hermione starts to lose her resolve, and skip to the final section. Several of you thought Hermione should give Fred and George a go, so I wrote it in, and… I guess those two just bring out the worst in me. I actually tried to tone it down a bit, but it remains by far my smuttiest entry. The smut fiends among you should be happier. The rest? Don't hate me… the twins made me do it.

* * *

Hermione was so relieved to be free of Snape, and the dungeon, and her fear of goofing something up that she practically ran down the hallway toward the stairs.

"Ooff!"

She had run smack into Fred and George.

"Granger," exclaimed Fred, "what brings you down here at this time of night?"

"Detention," she replied. "Cleaning out Snape's storeroom for him."

"Detention? The Perfect Prefect did something detention-worthy? George, she might be more of a bad girl than we gave her credit for. First Lupin and Black, and now detention. With Snape, no less. Tell us, did he spank you to punish you for your transgressions?"

She scowled at him by way of answer, and turned to George. "How about you? What are you two doing down here so late?"

"We fancied a bedtime snack, so we visited the kitchens," explained George. "Want a banana?"

"Sure, thanks. I am actually hungry." She accepted the fruit, opened the peel, and took a bite. Fred winced. She looked at him suspiciously.

"Hmmm, no love for the banana. I was hoping for a little tonguing, maybe some deep throat action, before you took what you wanted," he teased.

"You're gross, Fred."

"Aw, come on. Give a guy a break, Granger. I was just having fun."

"No, you give ME a break. I had hoped George was being thoughtful by offering me a snack. I should have known better when he offered me the most phallic of all fruits."

"Yes," laughed George. "You should have known."

"Well, it is delicious, so thank you. Even though your motives weren't pure, you did help me out."

"You're welcome, Granger," said George, in a formal tone. "And now, we'd like to do something else nice for you."

They had been climbing stairs as they talked, and had reached the fourth floor, but instead of continuing up to the fifth, the twins each grabbed an elbow and steered her into a broom cupboard. Not again with the kidnapping, she thought. The space was tight and dark. Fred flipped over a mop bucket and sat on it, pulling Hermione down onto his lap. George stood in the only remaining floor space, his thigh grazing her shoulder. It was pitch dark, but George pulled out his wand and muttered, "Lumos." Then he cast a silencing spell, which Hermione knew quite well from her nights spent with Sirius and Remus. She was getting rather nervous about the twins' intentions.

"Look, guys," she said, as calmly as possible, "I know you want to do something nice for me, but I thought I'd made it clear that I'm not ready to take you up on the 'generous offer' you made me at Grimmauld Place."

"Not ready," noted Fred.

"That makes it sound like at some future point, she could be ready," said George.

"I'm liking the sound of that," said Fred. "It gives me hope for our future."

"So why have you brought me here, exactly? You two have a bad habit of abducting me, you know."

"Sorry about the abduction, but we wanted to speak with you privately, and the common room just wouldn't do," said George.

"What do you want to speak with me about that requires the privacy of a broom cupboard and a silencing charm?"

"We wanted to give you some encouragement," said Fred.

"Encouragement?"

"Yeah, we saw how you were mooning over Loony Lovegood, and we want you to know that if you're not going to shag us, we're all for you shagging her."

"Shagging her? Fred, I barely know her! And don't call her Loony, that's not nice."

"Ah, but you want to know her better," said George, knowingly. "And it's sweet how you're already protective of her."

"Well, of course I want to know her better. Your own sister informs me that Luna is a lovely and interesting person."

"Lovely and interesting," repeated Fred. "We saw how you were looking at her, and we can tell you think she's lovely, and that you're interested."

"Whatever… can I go now?"

"No, sweetheart, don't go," George said, in his best soothing tones. "We're enjoying this little chat."

"Yes, I can tell that Fred is enjoying it immensely." Fred's reaction to her position on his lap was unmistakable.

"George, she said I'm immense!"

"No, I said your enjoyment is immense."

"Well, close enough, I'll take it."

George laughed at his twin. "Anyway, back to how you were looking at Luna."

"And how, precisely, was I looking at her?"

"As if she were a fresh piece of fruit you'd like to bite into, and have the juices run down your chin."

"Vivid imagery, George."

"Thank you, Fred."

"As if she were a lovely lolly you'd like to lick."

"Nice alliteration, Fred."

"Thanks, George. I try."

"I was NOT looking at her that way," Hermione protested.

"Of course you were," said Fred. "We recognize the signs. We ourselves have spent countless hours admiring pretty birds, and we saw you with exactly the same look in your eyes."

"We approve of your taste, you know – and we want to give you our sincerest best wishes for your future happiness with her."

"Well, that's nice of you, George, though it seems premature, seeing as I barely know the girl!"

"Yes, we would be so happy for you if you got to know her better," said Fred.

"Started to date her," said George.

"Fell in luuuurrve," drawled Fred.

"Moved in together," added George.

"Became life partners," suggested Fred.

"And lived happily ever after," concluded George.

"What a happy home you'll have together, Granger! Just think about it, George – a home with four beautiful breasts."

"Mmmm," agreed George. "And two adorable arses."

"Mmmm, and two purrrrfect pussies."

"Oh," said George, all wide-eyed mock-innocence, "does Luna have a cat, too, Fred?"

Fred and George cracked up.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Idiots."

"That's not nice, Granger," complained Fred. "And here we are wishing you such a lovely future."

"Yes, it sounds almost like paradise," sighed George.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Almost?"

"Well, there would be an awful lot of hair in the drain."

"That's true, I suppose," she admitted.

"And I'm noticing something else tragic," added Fred.

"Worse than hair in the drain?"

"Yes, Granger, much worse. Sadly, in this scenario, there is a definite dearth of dick."

"Ooh," agreed George, "Too true. A shocking shortage of shlong."

"Nice one, George. Is that okay, Granger? I mean, if this thing with Luna works out, you may have already had your last taste of cock for your whole life."

"Oh… I hadn't really thought that far ahead, I guess." Merlin's Pants, they were right! And Hermione had really grown to love the taste of cock in the last month or so, not to mention the feel of it, the smell of it, and the sight of it. She squirmed in her seat as she reminisced. Her seat, though, was Fred's lap. He groaned.

"Hermione, we're just concerned for your well being, of course," said George. "Are you sure you're going to be happy without even one more round of magnificent man-flesh?" His wandlight was casting shadows at odd angles, which highlighted the growing bulge of his own 'man-flesh' nicely. It was so close to her face in the small cupboard that she could almost… well, taste it. It was suddenly getting awfully hot in the broom cupboard. Stifling. She also noticed an excess of wetness at both ends: her knickers were damp again, and her mouth was watering. With one twin's erection beneath her, and the other directly in front of her face, she was quickly losing her resolve.

She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Ah, what the hell, she finally decided. You only live once, and with Voldemort on the loose there was no guarantee that even this life would last too much longer. Damn, she thought, the Order of the Phoenix was going to have to get rid of that bastard soon, because her uncertain life expectancy had been turning her into a bit of a slut lately. Still, until they managed to knock him off, she was definitely at risk of premature death. One wouldn't want to go out with regrets, and one didn't get moments like this very often. So in answer to George's question, she gyrated teasingly on Fred's lap, and grabbed George by both hips, laying her cheek against his trousers and feeling his hardness all along the side of her face. They moaned simultaneously, and George grabbed her by the hair.

"Gentlemen, I have four things to say. First, what happens in the broom cupboard stays in the broom cupboard. Agreed?"

"Mmmmmmmm."

"I'll take that as a yes. Second, this is a one-time occurrence and it means nothing to me but physical gratification, got it?"

"Mmmmmmm!"

"Again, I'll take that as a yes, and an enthusiastic one. Good. Third, George, as you've got your wand in hand and neither Fred nor I can reach ours, I'm going to need you to cast the Contraceptive charm. Do you know it?"

"Naturally," he smiled, and did as she had requested.

"And finally, somebody help me get out of these robes. I'm boiling in here, and can't move enough to get them off by myself."

They obliged, of course. It was an awkward procedure, and George accidentally elbowed her in the head, but in the end she was much more comfortable.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yes," she said, cupping her hands around George's delightfully firm bum and pulling his hips to her face. Time to try Sirius's trick, she thought, and went to work on George's belt with her teeth. She could tell the anticipation was nearly killing him, and took savage pleasure in driving him crazy.

Meanwhile, Fred slid his hands up under Hermione's school uniform skirt to her panties. He whistled through his teeth at finding them quite soaked through.

By the time Hermione had managed George's belt and then dropped his trousers and pants to his ankles, Fred had somehow managed to free his own erection and pull her panties out of the way. She raised her hips, and Fred placed his hands on them to guide her as she slid smoothly down, his length filling her so deeply she gasped.

"That's right, Granger," he growled. "Have a seat, won't you?" She wiggled around to get more comfortable, and he yelped, "Fuck, you're tight! Do that again!"

She shook her head, saying, "Hold on, Fred, we can't leave out your darling brother, can we?"

Hermione leaned forward and grasped George's ready shaft, rubbing the velvety skin against her lips, and inhaling his musky scent. "Granger, you're a sadist," George whispered. "Just do it already!" But instead, she lightly grazed up his entire length with her teeth, and tugged gently on his balls with one hand. His hips bucked toward her as he moaned, "Now, Granger! Just fucking suck me now!" His desperation added to her arousal, and her inner walls contracted momentarily in response, which made Fred gasp and buck as well.

"Patience, George," she said soothingly, "I want to take my time, in case this is, as you suggested, my last chance ever. Besides, Fred likes to watch me play with my food before I eat it, don't you Fred?"

Fred's voice sounded hoarsely in her ear, "You ARE a fucking sadist. I love it!" He lifted her gently and rocked his hips back and forth underneath her as he eased her back down.

Hermione was losing her mind. It had been two weeks since she had last had sex with Sirius and Remus, and this was just the fix she needed. Yes, yes, she told herself, this isn't love, but it's damned good anyway. Love was what she wanted, but sex was what she needed. Or did she have that backward? At the moment, she didn't care.

She finally decided that George had been tortured enough, and took him into her mouth. She made a ring with her forefinger and thumb and tightly encircled the base of his cock. With her other hand grabbing his tight right buttock, she was able to control his pace, and keep him moving slowly enough for her to savor every delicious inch of him.

Fred still had one hand on her hip to guide and steady her, but the other hand had snaked around her waist and dipped down between her legs. As he stroked and squeezed her bundle of nerves, that miraculous tissue, the only part of the human body that exists purely for pleasure, she shuddered and moaned. George felt the vibration of her moan all around his cock, and went weak in the knees, his eyes rolling back in his head. Fred felt her shudder through his entire being, and grabbed her hip so hard she would later find five perfect fingertip-sized bruises there.

George's breathing was ragged, and in time with her mouth sliding slowly up and down his rock-hard erection. She wanted to get a rhythm going with Fred, too, but her thighs were trembling too much to support her for long. Fred, however, needed to increase the friction as well, and took decisive action. He raised himself slowly to standing, lifting her hips with him, and kicked the bucket to one side. Now all three were on their feet, and Fred was finally able to pump into her freely as he held onto the shelves behind him with one hand for support. Hermione was bent over at a right angle so that her mouth still had access to George's entire length. As a bonus, she discovered that her angle allowed Fred to get unbelievably deep inside her. She could feel him banging up against her right ovary; if he went any deeper she was sure he would puncture her lung. She went wild with the sensation, losing herself in the savage mixture of pleasure and pain.

Before long, the twins were moving simultaneously, grunting in unison each time they stroked into her slowly and deeply. They continued to match each other's pace as their speed slowly built. Hermione rode their rhythm, completely adrift in the experience, being lifted to higher planes of sweet pleasure when, with one cry, they both spilled their seed into her at the same moment. Fred collapsed onto her back, and George fell back against the cupboard door for support, Hermione still hanging onto his hips and gasping from the sudden change. She wasn't ready to come back to earth yet.

George recovered first. "Poor Luna," he panted. "I'm not at all sure you're cut out for dating girls, Granger. You suck cock with all the enthusiasm and passion of a vampire sucking blood."

"Don't make me out to be Dracula here," she said, panting as well, as she released his hips and straightened up to look him in the eye. "I'm renaming your brother 'Fred the Impaler!' I think he was trying to puncture my lung." Fred laughed hard – too hard. Combined with Hermione's now upright posture, and his quickly subsiding erection, the laughter slid him right out of her.

"Come here, Granger. I've got something else for you." George took her gently by the hips and turned her around, then wrapped his arms tightly around her from behind, still breathing heavily into her ear. She didn't know what he had in mind, but she hadn't reached her own climax yet, so she went along for the ride. She leaned back into his Quidditch-toned torso, facing Fred for the first time since they'd brought her to the broom cupboard. She ground her hips back into George's still-naked pelvis to let him know she was ready for more, and he moved one hand to lift the front of her skirt. He tucked the fabric under the arm that still circled her waist, then returned the hand to her hot and dripping core. He slid his fingers up into her passage, which was now filled with his twin's semen, and stroked her clit with his thumb. Fred watched appreciatively in the low light still provided by George's wand, which had slipped to the floor. Hermione vaguely registered surprise that she didn't mind being on display for Fred. In fact, she found it turned her on immensely to have Fred watching as George stroked her closer and closer to orgasm. She arched her back and lifted her face so that her mouth was closer to George's ear, and whispered throatily, "Don't stop, George, please please don't stop."

Fred, no longer content being a mere spectator, closed the short distance between them and unbuttoned her shirt, roughly pulling the lacy bra cups out of the way, and stroking and kissing her breasts. She was a Hermione sandwich again, surrounded by their scent, by their arms – so muscular from swinging a Beater's bat for so long, by their rough hands. It was heavenly. "Oh, yes," she panted. "Yes, yes, it's soooo good!"

"Say my name, Granger," Fred growled from around a pink nipple. "I want to hear you beg me, too."

"Yes, Fred," she moaned obligingly. "Please Fred, more. Yes, yes, yes…"

"Isn't 'yes' a lot more fun than 'no,' Hermione," whispered George, his breath hot and steamy in her ear, his skillful hand still working its magic below.

"Yes, yes, yes," she cried. "Oh fuck yes, I'm fucking coming!" And she felt the fire rush from her core to every cell of her body. George held her tight with one arm, the fingers of his other hand still deep inside her, as she shook violently with the power of her release.

"Tsk, tsk, Granger," said Fred, "language, language."

"Sorry," she panted. "You two bring out the worst in me."

"Aw, come on Fred, don't be a prude. Granger could talk like that to me all night long, if she wanted – I wouldn't mind a bit."

"Point well taken, brother of mine."

* * *

Twenty minutes and a few Scourgify charms later, the three of them tumbled in through the portrait hole, flushed and out of breath. Harry and Ron glanced up from their chess game, and waved.

"Long detention, Hermione?" Ginny arched an eyebrow at her friend.

"What? Oh, yeah. It was awful; you know Snape. But look who I ran into on my way back! They were coming up from the kitchens. And George just gave me the most delicious banana!"

Everyone within earshot burst out laughing, except Ron and Ginny. But when Hermione laughed too, pulled the banana peel from her robe pocket, and called them all perverts, Ginny and Ron relaxed and smiled. Still chuckling, Hermione limped up the stairs to her dormitory, calling out as she went, "Goodnight, everyone!"

* * *

A/N: Well, there you have it. What do you say, people? My first chapter of really letting loose. I used words I really didn't think I'd ever use in a story, and spent altogether too much time on the mechanics of the sucking and fucking. (Oh, there I go again!) Is it horrible? Should I just go back to writing fluffy lovey dovey stuff? Or is it good to sprinkle a little of this in now and then to shake things up?

As for "Fred the Impaler"… I had a grand time recently watching "Bram Stoker's Dracula" again, featuring our dear Gary Oldman as Count Dracula, AKA Vlad the Impaler.

And as for the bit about the clitoris being the only part of the human anatomy with no purpose other than pleasure – I don't remember where I read that, but I think it might have been on some website about the Vagina Monologues. (My church is putting it on soon, and I was considering auditioning, so I was trying to read up…) Anyway, I can't think of any other body part that has that sole function, can you? Cool…


	19. Chapter 19: Bananas

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 19: Bananas

A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews of last chapter! I passed 100 reviews and have over 18,000 hits on this story. More than 50 story alerts, and more than 25 of you have selected this as a favorite story. I'm so pumped – and, you guys totally rock! I'm having so much fun with you all. That said, read on for another (though tamer) reader-requested interlude.

* * *

By the next afternoon, Hermione was getting rather irritated with almost every boy in Gryffindor. Word of her unfortunate double-entendre had spread quickly, and it seemed that practically the entire male population of her house had wanted to rub it in. At breakfast, Seamus and Dean stopped by, interrupting her perusal of the Daily Prophet, and each gave her a banana. "Ours are delicious, too," said Seamus, with a wink. At lunch, four more boys gave her bananas. And when she opened her book bag to dig for a quill, she found seven more bananas tucked inside, each with a love note attached.

Hermione was a practical girl, and recognized that when life gives you bananas, you make banana bread. She immediately owled her mother for the recipe.

The bananas kept coming. Every boy from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, including Ron. Even Harry, which surprised her. Even Colin Freaking Creevey AND his little brother Dennis. Most of the bananas had notes attached, or were hand-delivered, but a few were from anonymous banana-givers. Some were even from boys from other houses, so apparently, the story was spreading. Honestly, she thought, boys were idiots. Most of them weren't worth anything at all above the neck.

By Sunday morning, Hermione had gotten her mother's reply, so she brought the recipe and her now very ripe and very large banana collection to the kitchens. With Dobby's help, she baked up twenty golden, aromatic loaves. She gave five to the house-elves to thank them for all their work, six to Hagrid (as he had a rather large appetite), and one each to Madam Pince and Madam Pomfrey (because Hermione felt the staff positions didn't get enough thanks or recognition for their work). She considered giving some to her favorite teachers, but didn't want them to think she was trying to curry favor. She brought six back to the Gryffindor common room to share with her housemates.

"Thanks, Hermione," said Lavender Brown, stuffing her face with a warm, moist slice of bread. "If I can convince all the boys to bring you peaches next week, will you make us a cobbler?" Hermione balled up a spare piece of parchment, and threw it at her, laughing.

"Hermione," gasped Ron, "you are a PREFECT!"

"She's really been loosening up lately," noted Harry to his best mate. "Have you noticed?"

An evil grin crossed Hermione's face. Oh, Harry, she thought to herself, you have NO idea. Across the room, Fred and George collapsed in a sudden fit of hysterical laughter. Luckily, that was fairly normal behavior for them, so no one paid it much attention.

* * *

Hermione caught up with Luna as she was leaving the Dining Hall after lunch that day. She tried to keep her voice steady, though her heart was pounding traitorously and she was sure she was probably blushing bright crimson. Why oh why was Luna having this effect on her? "Luna," she panted, as out of breath as if she had run up from Hagrid's cabin, instead of just walking quickly across the Hall, "I'm glad I caught you."

"I'm glad you caught me, too, Hermione," Luna said pleasantly.

For a moment, Hermione was dumbstruck: a rare occurrence. What did Luna mean by that response? She shook off her questions, and plunged ahead. "I need to speak with you privately, sometime soon. Oh, and I have a gift for you!" She reached into her book bag and pulled out the last loaf of banana bread. She had wrapped it in cellophane and tied it with a bow.

"Thank you, Hermione! I love banana bread – what a treat! Why don't we share it for tea today, in a private place where we can talk? I'll bring the tea. Can you meet me in Greenhouse Three at around four this afternoon? It's usually very private, and it's a delightful place to be on a winter afternoon."

"That sounds perfect, Luna," said Hermione. "I'll see you then."

Luna flashed her a dazzling smile, and said happily, "It's a date, then!" And she skipped off toward the stairs.

* * *

At four, Hermione – always punctual – pushed open the door of Greenhouse Three to find Luna's backside, clad only in shorts, pointed directly at her. She was on her hands and knees, smoothing the wrinkles out of a blue plaid picnic blanket she had spread on the ground. Hermione cleared her throat to announce her presence.

Luna straightened up on her knees, and looked over her shoulder. She gave Hermione a warm smile and stood. "Welcome to my winter retreat! Isn't it wonderful in here?"

Hermione looked around in wonder, as if she'd never taken a Herbology class. In truth, the place seemed much different without her fellow Gryffindors, and just Luna Lovegood, clad in only a white tank top and gray running shorts, for company. Luna's lithe shoulders and legs were cream-colored, and her bare feet were dirty. She seemed utterly unselfconscious about being so exposed. As Hermione had imagined, the windows of the greenhouse were all steamed up, and the place was indeed very private. She was surrounded by strong, but not unpleasant, scents: the earthy aroma of dirt, the fresh smell of leaves, and the scent of several different kinds of flowers combined into one heady mixture. It made her lightheaded, so she sat down on the blanket. "It is wonderful, Luna. I can see why you like it here: it's like a little oasis of summertime. I feel like I've invaded your sanctuary, though."

"Don't be silly. I invited you here, didn't I?" Luna dug in her bag and came back to the picnic blanket with the banana bread, a small knife, a thermos, and two chipped teacups.

As Luna poured the tea, Hermione pulled off her coat, jumper, shoes, and socks, and set them aside. She had expected it to be warm in the greenhouse, but maybe not quite this warm. In her jeans and t-shirt, she still felt quite overdressed. Luna handed her a slice of banana bread and a cup of tea. They sipped and ate in silence.

"I don't have any brothers or sisters," Luna blurted unexpectedly.

"What?" That came out of the blue…

"Ginny said you wanted to know."

"Oh!" How embarrassing. Not only was Ginny entirely too observant, she was also entirely too talkative. "Yes, I had asked that question. Well, that's one thing we have in common, Luna: I'm an only child as well."

"Why did you want to know if I had any siblings?" Luna munched happily on her bread, apparently not finding it odd that Hermione was asking about her family.

"I… Well, I was hoping to get to know you better, Luna. You've been so supportive of Harry and of the D.A., and I truly appreciate that. But because we're in different houses and a year apart, I just haven't had many opportunities to get to know you."

"I wasn't sure you wanted to get to know me any better, Hermione," said Luna, conversationally. She had a knack for saying uncomfortable truths in a perfectly comfortable way. "You have frequently given me the impression that you don't believe half the things I say. But I did notice you looking at me the other day. I was wondering if something happened over the winter holiday that opened your eyes. Did you find a nargle in your mistletoe, and now you know they're real?"

"Yes, Luna, actually something did happen over the holiday to open my eyes, but it wasn't nargles in the mistletoe. I… I made some new friends. Or, more to the point, I got to know some old acquaintances much better. And it was such a joy to reveal myself to them as they revealed themselves to me. The experience showed me that if I take the time to know someone more intimately, beautiful things can happen – we can find our shared humanity, or something. My best Christmas present this year was not a thing – it was unwrapping the complex and wonderful mysteries of my new friends. Am I making any sense? It was something beyond logic, so I find the vocabulary I need to express myself isn't coming readily."

"Of course you're making sense, Hermione. You're saying that you opened your heart to someone new, and made a deep connection, and that the experience was exhilarating and immensely satisfying. You're saying that you allowed yourself to be more vulnerable and genuine than you had thought possible, and that your reward for taking those risks was unconditional acceptance. And you're saying that you hope the same thing can happen with me."

Hermione gulped at Luna's assessment, which was almost frighteningly accurate. "I guess that IS what I was saying. I didn't realize you were so wise about people, Luna. You're very perceptive, and you listened to me so carefully that you were able to articulate my feelings better than I was able to myself." Hermione could suddenly empathize better with Sirius, as she recalled him saying, _I love how you understand me better than I understand myself, Moony. _She put down her empty teacup, and met Luna's eyes. "See, I'm getting to know you so much better, already!"

Luna smiled a generous smile, and stretched out on the picnic blanket, interlacing her fingers behind her head as a pillow. "I think I'm going to like getting to know you better, as well, Hermione."

Hermione laughed, and lay back on the picnic blanket as well, but propped on one elbow so she could still see Luna's face. "Okay, then, ask me anything!"

"Where did you learn to make banana bread so well?" Luna rubbed her hand over her flat belly, exposing even more of her ivory skin. "That was yummmmmy!"

"From my mother. And she got the recipe from her mother. I'm glad you're enjoying it, Luna."

Hermione's hair had gotten damp from the heat and humidity in the greenhouse, and she pushed it out of her eyes. Luna's white tank top had begun to stick to her skin, and Hermione tried hard not to stare. They really were beautiful breasts, just as Fred and George had said. And she had to admit, when she entered the greenhouse and found herself staring at Luna's backside, that it was, in fact, an adorable arse. She had to stop thinking these thoughts, though, or she might accidentally kiss Luna, and she still wasn't sure that she wanted to start down that road. Plus, she had no indication from Luna that a kiss would be welcome. What was it that Sirius had said, when he wasn't sure if Remus would hit him or not? _There has to be a reason why I kept ditching girls to be with you, and if you would let me, I'd like to kiss you… _Hermione forced herself to refocus on what Luna's lips were saying, instead of how soft they looked.

She was reminiscing about cooking with her mother, and had a faraway look in her eyes. "I used to bake with my mother now and then, when I was little. I don't think we ever made banana bread though. She died when I was nine, so nowadays it's just me and Dad in the kitchen. And, of course, when I'm here at school, he's cooking for one. Thank goodness he's so passionately involved with his work – I think the Quibbler keeps him company while I'm gone, so he doesn't feel as lonely."

"Oh, the Quibbler! And your Dad!" Hermione sat upright. Luna looked at her from under blonde eyelashes, curious about her outburst. "Luna, I wanted to ask you something about your Dad and the Quibbler – that's why I needed to talk to you! I've gotten so distracted by our tea and conversation, I almost forgot!" And by the soft-looking expanses of your creamy skin, Hermione thought, but of course she didn't say that aloud. What was going on? The twins had been right – she really did like sex with men. Why was Luna so entrancing?

"What is it, Hermione?"

She shook her head to refocus her thoughts on the task at hand. "Well, you know how the Daily Prophet has been writing lies about Harry all year?"

"Yessss…" Luna propped herself up on her elbows, watching Hermione's face.

"It so happens that I have a bit of… influence, shall we say, over reporter Rita Skeeter, and I want her to interview Harry and get the real story of what happened when Voldemort returned. Harry doesn't know about this. I don't want to say anything to him until I know for sure it will happen. I didn't tell Rita about the interview, either – just that I needed her to meet me at the Three Broomsticks on our next Hogsmeade weekend. I haven't gotten her response yet, but I think she'll come, as I could make life quite difficult for her if she doesn't do what I want."

Luna looked at her in shock, and sat up the rest of the way. "Hermione, this doesn't sound like a very nice meeting. I'm a bit worried about this 'influence' you say you have over her. And what does this have to do with Daddy and the Quibbler?"

Hermione's expression softened, and she took Luna's hand. "It's not as bad as it sounds, probably. I'll tell you about it, if you can keep a secret."

"I can keep a secret, but I don't like to make those kinds of promises. What if you were doing something really wrong, and I promised not to tell?"

"Luna." Hermione gave the younger girl's hand a comforting squeeze. "I suppose you don't know me well enough yet to trust my judgment. Fair enough. I'll just tell you, and if you think it's so horrible that I need to be reported to some authority, you can do that. But if not, you'll keep my secret for me, won't you?"

Luna nodded solemnly, her eyes, if possible, wider than usual.

"I discovered last year that Rita Skeeter is an unregistered animagus. She turns into a beetle, and listens in on people's conversations to get scoops for the Daily Prophet. She was spying on me, Harry, Viktor Krum, Hagrid, and who knows how many other people, and misrepresenting our words, or exposing our private lives without permission. I confronted her, and made her promise not to write anything for a year, or I would expose her illegal status as an animagus. But now, I think it's time she put her quill back to use, this time for spreading the truth." Hermione held her breath, her eyes searching Luna's face. Would Luna be satisfied?

Luna sat quietly for a moment staring at their joined hands. Then she met Hermione's eyes and nodded. "I'm still not sure why you took matters into your own hands instead of just reporting her to the Ministry right away. But I suppose it's nice that you gave her time to reconsider her practices, instead of having her lose her job entirely, and maybe even have to stand trial. I do remember the awful things she wrote about you, and how she said Harry was an attention-seeker, and that Hagrid is a half-giant. She was very disrespectful. But you think she will write this article for you?"

"I do. But of course the Daily Prophet wouldn't be interested in telling Harry's side of the story, don't you agree?"

Luna clapped her hands in excitement. "I do agree, and I see where you're going with this!"

"Luna, would your dad publish Harry's story about what really happened when Voldemort came back?" Hermione didn't know what to do with her hand now that Luna had released it. She could still feel Luna's warmth in her palm, and she closed her hand into a light fist so as to keep that warmth as long as possible.

"Of course he would – the Quibbler exists to spread the truth!" Luna stopped short when she saw Hermione's wry smile. "What? You're not making fun of the Quibbler again, are you?"

"No – Luna. No. Absolutely not. I'm sorry if it looked that way, and I'm sorry I ever did say anything against the Quibbler. It's just that I finally figured out the real difference between the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler, and it's not at all what I had originally thought."

"Tell me," Luna said. "You've intrigued me."

"Your father, through the medium of the Quibbler, tells the truth as he sees it – unvarnished and unapologetically – even if those truths frequently run counter to what his readers believe. He challenges people, asks them to think. The Daily Prophet often tells outright lies, and seems to exist only to tell readers what they want to hear, to keep them blissfully ignorant of the real dangers facing them. So the Quibbler is, by far, the more honest publication, and is far truer to the journalistic ideals the Daily Prophet says it espouses."

"Oh, Hermione!" Luna hugged her, almost knocking her over onto the blanket. "You DO understand! I'm so glad you made that discovery."

Hermione hugged her back. Luna's skin was warm against her. Then, seized by a sudden impulse, she brushed back Luna's hair and whispered into her ear. "Luna?"

"Yes, Hermione?" Still hugging.

"Would you like to… Would you come with me to Hogsmeade?"

Luna released her, and pulled back so she could look Hermione in the face. Her eyes were shining. "I'd love to, Hermione!"

Hermione blushed, and looked at the blanket. "I just thought, you know… you might want to be there to hear the interview, assuming Rita does come."

"And if she doesn't come?" The question was asked softly. Hermione looked up again, and smiled.

"Then I suppose we spend the day just doing whatever we want together!"

"I accept, Hermione. Either way, the day sounds promising."

"I agree. It's a date, then?"

"A date. On Valentine's Day, did you realize?"

"Oh, Luna! Did I just ask you to be my date on Valentine's Day, and did you just accept?"

Luna laughed – a comfortable, soft laugh. "You did, and I did."

Hermione laughed, too. "Well, imagine that." She stood to leave.

"I will," chuckled Luna. Hermione looked over, puzzled, as she pulled on her socks and shoes, and turned her jumper right side out. "I will imagine it," Luna clarified.

Hermione's head reemerged from the top of her jumper, wearing a grin, and she pulled on her coat. "Thanks for the picnic, Luna. This was really very enjoyable. We should do it again sometime."

Luna raised her pale eyebrows. "Hermione, did you just suggest another private picnic with me?"

"I suppose I did!"

"Well, imagine that," said Luna, smiling broadly.

Hermione laughed as she opened the door and faced the fading light of the cold winter's day. She had almost believed it was summer for the past hour. She called back to Luna, in a gently teasing tone, "Don't worry, I will!" This time it was Hermione's turn to skip, as she headed back towards the castle, and though it was something she hadn't done much since she was ten, it felt right. Escaped Death Eaters, Voldemort gaining strength, Umbridge taking over Hogwarts – who cared? Hermione had a date with Luna for Valentine's Day, and her heart was light.

* * *

A/N: Some of you wanted to see Hermione & Luna in the greenhouse, so here it is. Reviewers can have a private picnic with any character they choose. Greenhouse optional, but it's 19 degrees where I am… If it's anything like that where you are, I recommend you take the full package. 


	20. Chapter 20: Confidence

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 20: Confidence

* * *

"Detention, Miss Granger!"

Severus Snape's tone was so sharp that Hermione jumped. "You will let your friends do their own work, without benefit of your incredible intellect," he said, sarcasm dripping from the last two words. "Another word out of you, and it will be house points as well. Surely that is something your exceptional brain can understand?"

All eyes in the classroom turned toward Hermione, who nodded silently at Snape. She had been expecting detention, of course: it was Thursday again, and he had promised her detention as a cover for their continued work on the Wolfsbane Potion. The class period was almost over, and Hermione had been starting to lose confidence. Had he forgotten their deal, or had she somehow disappointed him since their last meeting and he was putting an end to their work together? As class time had elapsed, she found herself getting jumpier, hoping each moment to have him accuse her of some petty transgression. Now he had finally done it, and it was a relief. As she made eye contact with him, the corners of her mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly. With just as quick and slight a movement as her concealed smile, was that… yes, by Merlin, it was: Snape had WINKED at her. From now on, Hermione thought to herself, she would just have to believe whatever Luna said about the Crumple-horned Snorkack and any other improbable thing, because she had officially just seen something crazier than all of those put together. Snape. Had winked. At her. Un-freaking-believable.

* * *

"Well, at least the storeroom is already clean," said Ron, trying to be helpful. "What do you think he'll make you do this time?"

"I know what I'd like to have him make ME do," said Seamus, waggling his eyebrows suggestively and nudging Hermione in the ribs.

"Ewwwww," chorused everyone sitting in a five-person radius.

"That's disgusting, mate," Harry said reproachfully. Ron was incapable of speech, as he'd been chewing a rather large bite of chicken salad sandwich, and gagged on it. Eyes streaming, he chugged pumpkin juice to soothe his aching throat.

"Come on, you mean to tell me I'm the only one who finds him dead sexy, swooping around the dungeon in black, being oh-so-dominating, treating us all like we're beneath contempt and he'd like nothing better than to whip us all into submission? I'm the only one who's ever wondered what he's packing under that billowing robe? I'm the only one who…" Seamus's voice trailed off as he saw that his audience had gone very pale, and that he was, in fact, the only one thinking such thoughts. "Well, then. Perhaps I've said too much. Good luck with your detention, Hermione." And Seamus walked down to the very end of the Gryffindor table and sat by himself.

Ron, finally recovered, was the first to speak into the awkward silence Seamus had left behind. "Well, that was something I didn't need to hear. I thought Seamus liked girls, anyway! Didn't he give you a banana last week, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. "Maybe Seamus is a switch-hitter, Ron."

"Wha?"

"You know, like a cricket player who bats both ways."

Confused stare…

"Oh for heaven's sake, Ron. Is Quidditch the only sport you know? How about this: he could hold a beater's bat in either hand?"

"I don't get it. Anyone could hold a beater's bat in either hand."

Sigh… "Never mind, Ron."

Harry, having had the benefit of Sirius's sex talk on the last day of winter hols, shook his head and laughed at his friend's woeful ignorance. "Don't worry, Ron. I'll explain it all to you later – and I'll use small words."

* * *

Severus Snape looked up as Hermione entered the dungeon at precisely eight o'clock. As he rose to begin the night's work, she saw that his robes were draped over a nearby chair. Without them, he looked both leaner and taller than usual. And, strangest of all, he almost looked… well, not quite happy – that would be going too far, but less grumpy and less threatening. He had tied his lank hair back, and the effect took years off his face. She was taken aback by the change, and froze just inside the doorway.

"What it is, Miss Granger? Have you lost the capacity for both speech and motion?"

"N- no, Professor. You just look… I'm not sure I've ever seen you without your robes and with your hair off your face. It's a drastic change."

"You ought to tie your hair back, as well. Tonight we brew the Wolfsbane Potion, and it is a rather unforgiving potion. We must keep all impurities out of the cauldron, or the results will not be satisfactory."

Hermione set her bag down and dug in it for a hair ribbon. As she tied her hair back, she watched him puttering around the table, setting up two workstations, each with its own cauldron. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why did you wait so long today in class to give me detention? I had been helping Ron, Harry, and Neville the whole time."

"Of course you had. You really can't resist the urge, can you? I saw that you were teaching them some of the skills you had learned last Thursday night with me. You retained that knowledge well."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Your question has a three part answer. First, the best way to really learn something is to teach it to someone else. In helping your friends, you were improving your retention. I chose not to rob you of that opportunity. Secondly, your friends need all the help they can get in this class. It's hard to say which of them struggles most. While I suspect all three of them of lower-than-average intelligence, I also believe they do poorly in my class partly because they fear me. I was interested to see if they learned better from you, who, presumably, they do not fear. And thirdly," he said with a wicked gleam in his eyes, "it was amusing to watch your anxiety increase as time ticked away with no detention. Hermione Granger actually wanted detention from me. I wanted to savor the moment. I actually considered waiting even longer, to see if out of desperation you would do something untoward in order to FORCE me to give you the detention."

Oh, Sweet Merlin. Snape was doing to her what she had done to George. He withheld something he knew she wanted, watching with amusement while her need increased, toying with her before giving in. Snape was mind-fucking her! Seamus was right about one thing: Snape did have sadistic tendencies. But then, so did she, according to the twins. This could be bad: shouldn't a sadist be paired with a masochist, rather than another sadist? But she knew who had the upper hand in this relationship. Snape held all the cards, and if it came to a confrontation of any kind, she would be the one to back down.

"Sir, if I might ask just one more question before we begin…"

He turned, his black eyes looking impatient, but not forbidding. She plunged onward. "If you think Harry, Ron, and Neville don't learn well from you because they fear you, why aren't you gentler around them, so they might learn better?"

His lips pressed together into a thin line as he momentarily considered her question. When he answered, his tone was challenging. "So you believe I should coddle my students? Keep them weak? You believe that managing fear is not a valuable skill they should be mastering? If Potter – the Boy Who Lives to Get Into Constant Trouble – allows himself to be immobilized by fear, then he deserves what he gets the next time he faces the Dark Lord. Although our esteemed High Inquisitor has decreed that faculty are not to teach anything except what is strictly related to their subjects, I believe it is imperative to arm all the students at Hogwarts, not just with basic skills in potions, but with self-confidence and self-mastery. Do you deny it?"

Snape is being cruel to be kind? Hermione's mind reeled. "No, Professor. I do not deny that self-confidence and self-mastery are essential in these times."

"A sensible conclusion," he said. "Besides… 'gentle' really isn't my style." And he smiled at her.

Okay, so Snape winks, smiles, gives "tough love" to his students, and is a sadist when it comes to giving teenaged girls what they want. Hermione was ready to give up. Snape would never cease to surprise her.

"Where did you tell your friends you learned those techniques?"

"I said I had been looking at some advanced potion-making texts in the library, in preparation for the O.W.L."

"Entirely believable, coming from you, Miss Granger. However, one thing I hope you will take away from this apprenticeship is that some things can't be learned in books. Last week, you learned how to use all of your senses in the preparation of your ingredients. Tonight, you will learn the art of timing. This is a complicated potion to brew, and you will need to give your undivided attention to the process. The brewing will take over an hour, and I think we have spent enough of our time this evening discussing your classmates."

"Yes, Sir. By all means, let's get started."

* * *

They worked side by side again, each creating a cauldron full of the most foul-smelling substance Hermione had ever had the misfortune to inhale. And that was saying something, as she had spent a month at equestrian camp, the summer she was nine. The potion was very complicated, as Snape had promised. The ingredients needed to be added at precise intervals, and the flame monitored so that the potion steamed, but didn't boil. For each item they added, the instructions called for a specific number of stirs, clockwise for some ingredients, and counter-clockwise for others. Hermione did not question anything, but did exactly as she was told. She followed his instructions so immediately that she felt almost as though they were working in tandem: synchronized stirring, as it were.

"Now we must 'set' the potion," he said. "Increase the fire temperature slightly, and pay close attention. The moment the potion starts to boil, extinguish the fire. Then it must cool for exactly thirteen minutes before we add the final ingredient."

Hermione kept her eyes on the steaming, stinking potion, watching for bubbles. As soon as she saw them, she used the extinguishing spell, and marked the time on her new watch. Snape was just doing the same with his own timepiece, which he kept tucked inside the pocket of his vest. Now that she had thirteen minutes in which to relax, Hermione noticed she was too warm. An hour of standing over the steaming cauldron, stirring almost constantly, had made her reach her own boiling point. Her face was flushed, and sweat ran down her temples. She attempted to fan herself with her hand, but it didn't do much good.

"You may remove your robes, Miss Granger. If you are appropriately attired underneath, that is."

Was that an attempt at flirting? Hermione sincerely hoped not. Perhaps it was better to ignore that statement. Snape had been without his robes all evening, though he was certainly no less buttoned up than usual: he wore a long-sleeved black shirt, black trousers, and a black vest with a high collar – and at least thirty buttons. Hermione still wore her school uniform under her robes, which she assumed would be appropriate enough for the potions master. Remembering how he had looked at her in the fantasy she had created with Remus so many nights ago, she vowed to keep her jumper and tie in place, and her blouse buttoned all the way, no matter how hot she felt. But she sighed with relief as she slipped off her long black school robes. "Thank you, Sir. That's much better."

They sat wearily on neighboring stools, and Snape checked his timepiece. "We have a few minutes left before we add the last ingredient. We should discuss the delivery. I trust you still want to come with me?"

"Yes, Sir. I definitely do."

"Hmmph. Yes, I thought so. We will make the delivery next Thursday night. I will, again, arrange for you to have detention."

"Next Thursday? Already? But it's new moon tonight – full moon is still two weeks away!"

"Miss Granger, I assure you, I am quite aware of the date of the next full moon. It has been an inconvenient necessity for me to keep tabs on the moon's phase for the past two years. I have carefully planned the timing of our work. After tonight, the potion must mature for seven days. It will be ready for delivery by next Thursday. To be effective, the potion must be drunk in the week before the full moon: no more than seven days before. And as you so astutely observed, the full moon is exactly two weeks from tonight." He checked his pocket watch once more.

"How will we get there, Professor?"

"I have spoken to Dumbledore about this problem, and we agreed that I will take you through the Whomping Willow passage to the Shrieking Shack, and then we will apparate from there."

"Sir, I'm sorry. I'm not able to apparate yet. I'm too young, and not trained."

"Yes, Miss Granger, I am aware of that, as is the Headmaster. We will use side-along apparition. All you need do is hold on tight."

She nodded. "Of course, Sir. I'm sorry. Of course you and Professor Dumbledore would have factored in my age when discussing our transportation options." She consulted her watch. "It's near time, just two minutes left."

They stood, and returned to their workstations. Snape placed his pocket watch on the table. "I suggest you remove your watch, and place it on the table as well, allowing you to see exactly when thirteen minutes have passed, and still have your hands free for the final step in the process."

Hermione lovingly took off her watch, and did as Snape suggested. He told her exactly what she would need to do when the thirteen minutes had elapsed. They would each take the phial of extract of datura, the night-blooming sacred thorn-apple, and pour it slowly – over a count of thirteen seconds – with one hand, while stirring thirteen times counter-clockwise with the other hand. If everything had been done correctly, the potion would turn a silvery-white color and take on the consistency of heavy cream. They each took a phial in their left hands, and prepared to stir with their right, eyes glued to their respective timepieces. Because their cauldrons had reached boiling a few seconds apart, Snape started first. Moments later, Hermione joined him, pouring slowly, counting her counter-clockwise stirs. And then it was done. She held her breath, waiting for the potion to reach its final state. Twenty seconds later, her potion looked perfect, and she let out her breath with a loud "phew!" as she sat again.

Snape peered into her cauldron. "Well?"

"I think it came out well," she told him.

"You think? How confident are you in your work, Miss Granger?"

"Confident enough, I suppose. It looks right to me."

"Confident enough? Confident enough to give him your potion instead of mine?"

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. He would actually consider giving Remus her potion? "What do you think, Professor?"

"Don't ask what I think, Miss Granger. You need to learn to be confident in yourself and your work without getting approval from an authority figure. Are you confident enough to give him your potion instead of mine?"

Her mind raced. She had followed his instructions to the letter. He had approved of her ingredient preparation. They had worked in sync during the brewing process. She had done the last step just the way he had described it. And the results looked right. Was that enough to go on?

"Sir, I would like to examine a small sample of your potion and a small sample of my potion, side by side. May I do that before I give you my answer?"

"Certainly. A reasonable precaution." He collected two clean glass phials from the storeroom, and handed them to her.

She collected a few milliliters from each cauldron. She tested them the way she had seen Snape testing her Restorative Draught a week ago. She held each phial to the light, and compared color and opacity. She swirled each phial, to compare the viscosity. She inhaled deeply over each cauldron, and though the smell was still unpleasant, it was the same in both. "Is it safe for me to take a taste of it?"

"Yes, as long as it is just a small taste. A large dose would be fatal to someone not infected with lycanthropy, but just a taste will be safe for you."

Hermione dipped her pinky into one phial, and sucked it clean. Yuck. Poor Remus, having to drink this stuff every month! She tasted the other sample. Exactly the same disgusting taste.

Snape watched her closely. "And the verdict?"

"Yes," she said, in a clear and strong voice. "Yes, I am confident enough in my work that I would give Remus – Professor Lupin – my potion instead of yours."

"Very good, Miss Granger," he nodded, but his face and his tone were unreadable.

Together they bottled and labeled the potions, and set them high in the storeroom to mature. "Thank you so much, Professor," she told him as she gathered her book bag and robe. "Thank you for everything. This has been an incredible opportunity, and I want you to know I'm grateful."

"You're welcome, Miss Granger," he said softly, as she walked out into the cool of the hallway.

A moment later, she was back. "I'm sorry, Professor! I forgot to ask you something. If my friends ask me how detention went tonight, what can I tell them you had me doing? Ron already mentioned that at least the storeroom is clean."

"Just let them use their imagination, Miss Granger."

"No, Professor. Trust me, we do not want to do that. Two students already asked if you spanked me last week. And one today at lunch… well, he didn't say it in so many words, but…" She blushed, recalling Seamus's eyebrows and elbow nudges.

Though it was difficult to see the effect in his already pale skin, Snape blanched slightly. "Oh. I see." His brow furrowed. "You may say I had you on your hands and knees scrubbing the floor. I'll use a scouring charm to clean it tonight so no one will doubt you."

"Sir, no offense, but I think it would be best if I left out the part about being on my hands and knees."

Snape's eyes glittered, as he held back a laugh. (Will wonders never cease? Snape laughs?) "Miss Granger, feel free to tell your friends they are filthy perverts."

"Oh, I do, Professor. I do." And, smiling, she turned on her heel and left again.

* * *

A/N: I had major plot inspiration today while in the shower. (I do my best thinking in the shower and in the car…) I have been writing feverishly all afternoon and evening. I have now plotted out the remaining chapters and have parts written of most of them. It's looking like it'll turn into 24 chapters total. (And I had thought I was done after 7!) More drama, more humor, more smut, more Luna, more Severus, and more Remus and Sirius. Even a tiny bit more Fred & George.

This chapter hasn't been proofed as carefully as I usually do, but it's late, and I must sleep or I shall die. I hope you don't find tons of typos in it.

Hope you liked Snape as much this time around. Let me know! Reviewers may have detention with whichever professor, or former professor, they like.


	21. Chapter 21: Trust

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 21: Trust

* * *

On Saturday mornings, the Gryffindors were generally a lazy bunch. They needed time to unwind from the school week before they got serious about homework, Quidditch practice, or other pursuits. This particular Saturday morning found Hermione in the common room, writing her mum about what a hit the banana bread had been. Ron, who had just beaten Harry soundly (again) at chess, draped himself on the arm of her chair, reading over her shoulder. She frowned at him, and returned to her letter. 

"Hey, Hermione," he finally said, unwilling to be ignored.

"Did you need something, Ron?"

"Just wondering how your detention with Snape went the other night. You haven't said anything about it. What horrible thing did he make you do this time?"

"If you must know, first he insulted my heritage. Then he said since I was raised as a muggle, I could work like one. He made me scrub his floors clean – the muggle way."

"That slimeball," griped Ron. "Mum made me do our kitchen that way once when I was ten, for putting bulbadox powder into Percy's sheets. It was Fred and George's idea, but I was the one who got caught. I spent hours on my hands and knees, scrubbing with a stiff brush until my hands were raw."

Seamus, who had been dozing on the couch, perked up, asking hopefully, "Did I hear the words 'hands and knees,' 'stiff,' and 'raw' in the same sentence?"

"You did, mate," said George, helpfully. He and Fred had sauntered over when they heard their names.

"We were talking about Hermione's latest detention with Snape," explained Ron.

Hermione glared at him. "It's not what it sounds like, Seamus. Snape had me clean the dungeon floor the muggle way."

"But you were on your hands and knees? Was Snape in front of you, or behind you? I can make either way work, in my fantasies."

"Sorry, Seamus. I used a mop and bucket."

Though Seamus flopped down again, looking disappointed, Fred's face took on a faraway, happy expression. "I love mop buckets," he sighed.

George fell over, laughing hysterically. Again, this was fairly normal behavior for him and Fred. The Gryffindors looked at one another and shrugged, and then went back to their leisure activities. Luckily, George's outburst took everyone's attention away from Hermione, who had blushed bright crimson – but couldn't suppress a grin.

* * *

"Detention, Miss Granger!" 

He didn't wait nearly so long this time, she thought. Perhaps he's gotten over his sadistic streak.

"I'm beginning to think you like coming here in the evenings and getting dirty," Snape continued. "And since you cannot seem to stop yourself talking in my class, you will come back here tonight to perform a long overdue service for me. I'll have you on your knees, Miss Granger" – he paused dramatically, and Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief – "cleaning a year's worth of Drooble's Best from the bottoms of these work tables."

Nope. Sadistic streak still intact. Snape's eyes met Hermione's, and twinkled with mischief. She buried her head in her arms on the table and groaned. On her knees, getting dirty and performing a service for Snape: she'd get teased about this for weeks, no doubt.

At the next table, Dean was helping Seamus up off the floor. "You all right, mate?"

"Yeah, man, thanks," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "I must've blacked out for a second. He didn't say what I thought he said, did he?"

"He did, mate."

"I love this class, Dean."

"I know you do, Seamus."

* * *

"Have a great time, Hermione," sang Lavender Brown, as Hermione came down the stairs from the dormitory. 

"Got your knee pads," Seamus asked loudly, "and maybe a breath mint?"

A chorus of laughs followed her as she pushed through the portrait hole. Hermione didn't mind – she was too excited to see Remus and Sirius to let a little teasing bother her. The photos were tucked securely into her coat pocket, and she caressed them lovingly. She jogged down the stairs toward the dungeon, and arrived at Snape's office short of breath. He answered her knock at once.

"Good evening, Miss Granger. Come in for a moment." He pulled on his traveling cloak. "I will need to disillusion us both so that we are not seen leaving the castle tonight. I will not be able to see you, nor will you be able to see me. I will remove the charm once we reach the cover of the tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow. Until that time, you will need to hold on to me, so that we do not lose each other."

Hermione did as he instructed, and took his arm. It felt strange to have this kind of contact with him. Stranger still was the feeling of being disillusioned: a tapping on her head, followed by a rush of cold down her body. She saw Snape tuck their two bottles of potion into his robe pockets, tap his own head with his wand, and disappear. Could this night get any stranger? Though she could feel Snape's arm in hers, it was entirely invisible. She felt a tug as the arm moved, and she moved with it. Out the dungeon door, up the stairs, and through the Great Hall, she followed the pull of his invisible arm. The sensation was utterly bizarre. Hermione had grown used to moving about the castle invisibly with Harry and Ron under Harry's cloak, but at least then she could see her companions. The huge oaken front doors of Hogwarts opened just enough for the two of them to slip out. She was pulled across the lawn to the tree. When Snape stopped just out of range of the willow's branches, Hermione walked right into him.

"Sorry, Professor," she whispered, without knowing why she was whispering. It seemed the thing to do when one was invisible. She noticed a heavy rock levitating toward the special knot on the willow's trunk. It knocked hard against the spot, and the tree became still. Again she was pulled forward, and into the tight passageway concealed by the tree's roots. Another tap on the head was followed by a warm trickling sensation. A moment later, Severus Snape rematerialized. She was still holding his arm.

"Shall we?" He gestured down the long, dark tunnel. She nodded in reply. "Wands out, then," he said. "Lumos!"

"Lumos," she echoed, having released his arm, and retrieved her wand from her pocket.

They walked in silence for several minutes. "I trust you've had an entertaining afternoon," he called back to her after a while.

"Yes," she answered, a few steps behind him, "thanks to you. I've been teased mercilessly. They're really having a grand time of it."

"I couldn't resist, after what you told me last week. Might as well give the little perverts a thrill."

"Oh, they're thrilled all right," she said dryly. "I may have lost any authority I once held as a Prefect. Anything I might say will be twisted into the next dirty joke."

"Are you angry with me, Miss Granger?"

She felt sure he was goading her, but couldn't figure out why. Was this another part of his tough-love curriculum? "Not particularly, Sir. In all honesty, it has been rather amusing. And if a bookish girl with frizzy hair and big teeth doesn't learn to handle a bit of teasing, I don't know who will."

They fell silent again. She heard nothing but the sound of their feet on the tunnel floor. Then, his voice, low and rumbling, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to her: "Children can be so cruel."

Amen to that, she thought.

Finally, the path began to head uphill, and they emerged into the Shagging – no, no: Shrieking – Shack. The place definitely had a different feel to her, now that it was a frequent setting for her sexual fantasies. The last time she had been here was the first time she had seen Sirius and Remus together – the night they were reunited after a dozen years apart. Who among them could have imagined then that their relationship would develop into friendship – and eventually, so much more?

"The last time I was here," said Snape, remembering that same fateful night, "you stunned me."

"So I did, Professor. A lot happened that night that I'd just as soon forget." Nearly getting eaten by my Defense professor, for example. Oh, never mind, bad example.

"Are you ready to apparate to Grimmauld Place? Just take my arm again, Miss Granger, and hold on tight."

She did, and then gasped at the sensation of pressure from all around her as he apparated them both to the grassy area in front of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. He checked that the coast was clear, and then pulled her across the street to the door of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and rapped on the door.

* * *

Remus opened the door quickly. Of course – he must have been expecting Snape's arrival with his potion. He saw Hermione, looking slightly dazed from the discomfort and shock of her first apparating experience, and still clinging to Snape's arm. His face broke into a wide smile, and he cried, "Hermione! You're here!" Relief flooded through her. She felt like she was home again as she and Snape stepped inside. 

Hermione could hear Sirius in the background pulling the curtains back over his mother's portrait, and then calling excitedly, "What did you say, Moony? Is Hermione here?" He came bounding into the foyer, all smiles too, until he saw Snape. His hands clenched automatically into fists, and his eyes narrowed menacingly. "Snivellus! What in Merlin's name are you doing with Hermione? You keep your filthy hands off her!"

Snape remained outwardly cool, but Hermione could feel his muscles tense as he shook with suppressed rage. "Now, if that's not a case of the cauldron calling the kettle… well, Black… then I don't know what is. I'm not the one who took advantage of her. Besides, you'll notice my hands are not on her. Her hands are on me."

Hermione was surprised to find that he was right – she was still holding onto him. She released his arm immediately, but Sirius had already looked at her with hurt in his gray eyes.

"Gentlemen," she said, attempting to soothe their tempers, "no one has been taking advantage of me."

Sirius's eyes begged her for an explanation. "What does he know, Hermione?"

"He knows enough, Sirius. He knows how we three feel about each other, and has probably made some good guesses from there."

Sirius turned on Snape, pointing his wand directly into the Slytherin's face. "You used legilimency on her! You've been prying where you don't belong!"

"No, Sirius, lower your wand. He didn't need to use legilimency on me. He could read your feelings for me in your eyes when you and he almost dueled over winter holidays and Harry stopped you. And he could tell when he saw you last month, Remus, and you spoke of me fondly. Actually, Professor Snape has been quite respectful toward me during all the time we've spent together lately."

"Time you've spent… Have you been alone with him?" Sirius roared with anger, his wand still pointed at Snape.

This time it was Remus who stepped between them. "Calm down, Sirius. I would ask you not to insult or injure the man who brews my potion for me every month. Or have you forgotten how much I owe to Severus for his dedication and help?"

Sirius lowered his wand, but looked mutinous.

"Why don't we retire to the drawing room, and have a drink," suggested Remus, playing the host. He led the way, and the others followed, Sirius and Severus still shooting daggers at each other with their eyes. Sirius guided Hermione toward a love seat, and sat protectively next to her, as Remus poured and distributed four glasses of brandy. She looked to Snape for permission, but his eyes were still trained on Sirius. She met Remus's eyes, and they both shrugged. She took a sip.

Remus continued in a conversational tone, as if two of his guests were not exchanging murderous glares. "It was I who suggested to Severus that he work privately with Hermione, Sirius. You recall, of course, that she had expressed an interest in learning to brew the Wolfsbane Potion."

"You trusted him alone with her?"

"I have trusted him every month for over two years, Sirius, and he's never let me down."

Snape smirked. He loved having Remus defend him against Sirius. Hermione saw that he enjoyed causing friction between the two lovers.

"That's different, Moony," Sirius protested. "You're not a vulnerable little girl!"

Hermione turned to face him, eyes blazing, and her tone dangerous. "Little girl! Sirius Orion Black, you had better take that back. You were happy enough to call me a young woman not too long ago. If you believe I am a vulnerable little girl, then you did take advantage of me. But if you trusted me as a young woman capable of making good decisions and taking care of myself then, then you should trust me just the same now."

Sirius flinched at the anger in her voice. "Of course I trust you, Hermione. It's him I don't trust!"

"So you don't trust me, even though I've been brewing the Wolfsbane Potion for your… friend… all this time. You say you trust Miss Granger. I find this issue of trust very interesting. Shall we explore it?"

Hermione heard the calculating tone of the Slytherin, and smelled danger.

"Miss Granger and I have each brewed a bottle of Wolfsbane Potion. She says she feels confident that her potion is as good as mine. Remus, do you trust her enough to take her potion instead of mine?"

Unfair, she thought. Pitting Remus's need for a reliable potion against his feelings for me.

Remus hesitated slightly, but then said confidently, "Yes, I would trust Hermione with my life."

"Excellent, Remus," Snape almost hissed. "And you, Black, do you trust her enough to let Remus take her potion instead of mine?"

"Of course I do! There's no question! I trust Hermione way more than I trust you!"

"Ah, but do you trust the potion-making skills of a fifth-year student as much as you trust mine, when I have been potions master at Hogwarts for a decade and half?"

Sirius looked at Remus for support, but the werewolf's face was unreadable. He turned back to Snape. "Yes, I do. I trust her completely."

Snape's lip curled into a sneer. "How touching. It's a love-fest. Let's take this little experiment a step further, though."

The scent of danger grew stronger. Where was Snape going with this? Hermione had learned that Snape was nothing if not unpredictable. She could not fathom his baffling behavior.

"Remus, you said you would trust Miss Granger with your life. Would you trust yourself with HER life? Still willing to bet on her potion?"

"What are you suggesting, Severus?" Remus sounded nervous, and that, more than anything, frightened Hermione.

"If you agree to take Miss Granger's potion instead of mine, I'll bring her back here a week from tonight, and lock all three of you into a room for the full moon. I'll come around next morning to see who's still alive. Or, you could just admit that you don't trust her potion, and take mine, and no one need face any unnecessary risk."

"Severus, even you wouldn't risk the life of a student," said Remus. "You must be quite confident that she did it right, or you wouldn't even suggest such a plan."

"What's one loud-mouthed, know-it-all student more or less?"

Sirius wrapped his arms protectively around Hermione, and growled, "She's the best damned student in that school, Snivellus, and you know it!"

"He's teasing, Sirius," she said, patting his arm. But her eyes searched Snape's face. He was teasing after all, wasn't he?

Sirius held her tighter. "Why, Snape? Why even make this suggestion? What do you gain from it, other than sadistic pleasure?"

"Why? Because it amuses me, Black. You say you trust her, she says she trusts you, and I want to see proof of it. What do I gain from it? I win, either way. If you refuse to take her potion, Remus, I've proven you both wrong: you do not trust her as completely as you say. And I would love to make you eat your words, Black. If you do take her potion, and it works, of course, I shall be relieved of brewing your potion until I die, or you die, whichever happens first. Unless, that is, Miss Granger dies first, and I am forced to take up the job once more myself. Then again, if you do take her potion, and it doesn't work, I shall be relieved of grading Miss Granger's interminable sophomoric potions essays from here on out. Really, I can't lose."

Sirius sputtered angrily, and Hermione recognized that Snape was trying to provoke him – and succeeding. She was certain now that Snape believed her potion was every bit as good as his: his crack about her potions essays confirmed it. As she wrapped her brain around the dare Snape was offering, she saw an opportunity, and she took it.

"Sirius and Professor Snape," she said gently, "there's a lot of history between the two of you. I'm sure I don't know it all, but I heard enough that night in the Sha-… Shrieking Shack to get the general idea. I know that Sirius played a joke on you, Professor, that could have been deadly. And I know you have been holding a grudge for a very long time." Snape turned his daggers on Hermione.

"Sirius," she continued, turning to face him on the love seat, "I know you've grown up a lot since you were a schoolboy." Snape snorted loudly, but she ignored him. "And I know you regret what you did to Professor Snape. I believe a large part of your mistrust of him comes from your feelings of guilt, because you know if you were in his place you'd want retribution. You're waiting for him to try to seek revenge, so you can't trust anything he says or does, in case it turns out to be the counter-attack." Snape and Sirius eyed each other, warily. "But Remus had almost as much reason to be angry with you about that night, and you and he have obviously managed to get past it… It's been twenty years. Is there any chance, Sirius, and Professor Snape, that you could put that night behind you? You're on the same side now, for Merlin's sake."

Remus smiled at her encouragingly, but Sirius growled low in his throat. Hermione saw Snape's arm muscles tense, and knew his wand was at the ready in his pocket. Time to play dirty: she would use their egos against them.

"I will agree to your experiment, Professor Snape, on one condition. You and Sirius need to make your best efforts to get over what happened twenty years ago. You need to forgive each other, and forgive yourselves. You will put more effort into getting along: no drawing wands on each other, no insults, and no making decisions based on mistrust of each other. Are you both big enough men to agree to those terms?"

Snape's black eyes flashed angrily. "Why should I trust him? What if I hadn't been stopped in time? I would have been killed!"

"But you weren't, Professor. Both Sirius and Remus have admitted to being young and foolish. They have both matured in the past two decades. Yes, Sirius's joke could have been deadly, but it wasn't. Thank Merlin you were stopped in time, and you were all spared an awful fate: you weren't killed, and Remus didn't become a killer, and Sirius didn't have your blood on his hands. And now it's over. It's been over for twenty years. None of you need play that 'what if' scenario any more. You can let it rest. What happened back then is in the past, and what is happening now is what is important. You are on the same side. No good can come of this festering grudge. The Order needs you to be united. So I ask you again: are you both big enough men to agree to those terms?"

The two men watched each other's faces for signs, but what signs they sought, Hermione could only guess. Snape finally broke eye contact with Sirius, and nodded to her. He accepted the terms. Sirius, of course, could not let Snape make him look bad, and nodded to her as well.

Remus cleared his throat to break the silence. "Hermione, even though Severus and Sirius agree to your proposal, what if I don't agree? I could never forgive myself if I were to hurt you. I'm willing to take your potion if it's just me and Sirius here next week. If anything were to go wrong, he would just change into Padfoot and he'd be safe. But I can't risk hurting you."

She smiled at him tenderly. "Remus, I'm not afraid. I am confident in my work." Snape would have beamed at her, if beaming were something he ever did. But he did look at her with unmistakable pride. "And the potential benefit of a more united Order could be the difference between victory and defeat. Professor Dumbledore always says we are stronger together. Let's do this and see if those two can honor their commitment."

For a long moment, Remus's amber eyes were thoughtful. Then he sighed. "Okay, Hermione, you win."

"Shall we drink to seal the pact? Remus, you will take the potion I prepared. Professor, you will bring me back next week and lock the three of us into a room together all night, returning to collect me in the morning. And hereafter, you two," she looked meaningfully at Snape and Sirius, "will be at least civil to each other. Agreed?"

They all raised their glasses, and took a sip.

"Excellent," she sighed. "In that case, gentlemen, I think Professor Snape and I had best be going. But I will see you next week!" She dug in her coat pocket, and produced the photographs, which she had wrapped carefully in parchment, and sealed. She handed the package to Sirius, wanting to make a conciliatory effort, after putting him so much on the spot. "This is for you and Remus," she said. "Open it after Professor Snape and I leave."

Snape left just one bottle of potion for the werewolf – the one she had labeled herself as being her own work.

* * *

Hermione and Severus Snape left Headquarters silently. He offered his arm, and she took it, as she waved one last time at the window where she knew her men would be watching. They apparated back to the Shrieking Shack, and began the long trek through the dark tunnel. The only word either of them uttered was "Lumos." At the Hogwarts end of the tunnel, he again silently offered his arm, and reapplied the disillusionment charm, first to her, then to himself. Once more, she felt the eerie sensation of being pulled along by an invisible force as they walked across the grounds. 

"I'm proud of you, Miss Granger." The voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. It was almost as if the night itself were speaking to her. "You stood up for your work and you stood up for what you believed." High praise from the potions master who had frequently made her life so difficult in the past. She longed to see his expression, but knew that it was only under cover of invisibility that he would ever have shared such a sentiment.

"I'm proud of you, too, Professor."

* * *

A/N: I'm thrilled that so many of you liked Chapter 20 – it was by far the most-reviewed chapter I've written yet. Thanks to all of you who wrote in with your support – I love you all! Many of you liked the way I wrote Snape, so I hope I've managed to do him justice in this chapter. It was a very hard one to write. Special thanks to Hazel Love who suggested Sirius being all protective when Hermione showed up with his archenemy. 

A little Fred & George, a little Seamus, a little Remus & Sirius, and a whole lotta Snape in this chapter. Next chapter will be a respite from the kind of tension Snape creates, and will instead contain tension of a different sort. ; P

Keep those reviews coming, please! I am so enjoying tossing ideas around with you all. Love, -IJDTW


	22. Chapter 22: Detention

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 22: Detentions

A/N: Oh, I love you people so much! 150 reviews! And more reviews of Chapter 21 than of any other chapter so far! Over 21,000 hits! To repay you for your kindness, I offer this chapter. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

* * *

The days seemed to creep by, as days do when you're waiting for something important. When she left Grimmauld Place Thursday night, she knew she would see Sirius and Remus again in a week's time. How was it possible that only half of that time had elapsed? Hermione silently urged the earth onward, as if by sheer force of will she could make it spin faster and get her to Thursday. Alas… all signs pointed to it still being Monday morning.

During Potions class, Hermione kept her head down and her mouth shut. She tried to focus on the work at hand, and not the fact that her life would soon depend on the results of her first attempt at brewing an unbelievably advanced potion. Breathe, Hermione old girl, she told herself. You tested the potion against Snape's. It's perfect. He would not let you risk your life, no matter what he says to the contrary. It will be fine. Back to the work at hand, now: you don't want to get detention for real.

As she bent over her Potions text to double-check the quantity of hellebore in the recipe for the Draught of Peace they were supposed to be brewing, she heard Snape's unmistakable footsteps stop directly behind her. "Miss Granger, I'd like to see you after class," he said in a low voice. She heard snickers and whispers from the tables nearby, but ignored them. Please, she begged silently of the universe, don't let there be a glitch in the plans.

Half an hour later, she stood before Severus Snape in his empty classroom, asking worriedly, "Sir, is there a problem?"

"No, Miss Granger, but we do need to plan our next trip. I have informed the Headmaster that you and I will be spending the night at Headquarters on Thursday to monitor the results of a change we made in the Wolfsbane Potion. He suggested you tell your friends and housemates that your grandfather is ill and that you will be visiting him in hospital."

"I'll do that, Sir. We didn't actually make a change to the potion, did we? It will work just as well as it always does?"

"No, Miss Granger, we did not actually alter the recipe. But I didn't think the Headmaster would like it if I told him I was locking you up with a werewolf overnight. Are you still certain you wish to go ahead with this plan?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Insufferable child. You just want to hold me to that truce with Black you engineered. Quite crafty of you, if I do say so myself. I thought I was pulling the puppet strings, and the next thing I knew you had taken them out of my hands. I almost thought you were a Slytherin."

She smiled. "Thank you, Sir. And you agreed to my terms first. Very brave of you, if I do say so myself. I almost thought you were a Gryffindor."

"Touché." He regarded her silently for a moment. "Very well: you may tell your housemates that I will escort you to Hogsmeade, where you will catch the Knight Bus to visit your sick grandfather. It so happens that I have business in Hogsmeade myself that evening, so I have been appointed the unpleasant duty of chaperoning you until the bus collects you. We need to get to Headquarters before evening, Miss Granger, so meet me in the Great Hall at four in the afternoon."

"Thank you, Sir. I won't be late."

* * *

Hermione had been quietly doing homework that evening (how could it still be Monday, for Merlin's sake?). She had a rare moment of peace in which to concentrate, as Fred and George had a 'study date' with a couple of girls from Hufflepuff, Ginny and Ron were at Quidditch practice, and Harry was doing Occlumency lessons with Snape. Alas, all good things must come to an end: Ron and Ginny and the rest of the team spilled into the common room, still discussing strategy. Ginny looked around the common room for Harry, as she always did.

"Where's Harry," Ginny asked, predictably. Who did that girl think she was kidding, anyway? It was clear she still had feelings for Harry, Michael Corner notwithstanding.

Hermione raised her head from her books. "He's at 'Remedial Potions,' Ginny."

"Oh," the redhead replied, clearly disappointed. She flopped down next to Hermione. Ron followed suit, sitting on Hermione's other side. Oh well, so much for quiet study time. Hermione closed her books.

"Harry has all the luck," sighed Seamus, coming over to join them. "He's no worse in Potions than I am – how'd he get picked to spend evenings with Snape?"

"Seamus, not this again," sighed Hermione. The other fifth year students were gathering around her. When her classmates weren't teasing Hermione about Snape, they were teasing Seamus about him. So when both were sitting together, and Snape's name was mentioned, students congregated quickly.

"Oh, come on," giggled Lavender. "Let's hear it, Seamus – how did it go again? Snape is 'dead sexy' because he swoops around, being dominant, hiding Merlin-knows-what under his robes?"

"Yeah," sighed the sandy-haired boy, "and he's so controlled all the time. Don't you wonder what he's like when he really lets go?"

"I'm sure you'd be the one to loosen him up, Seamus," teased Lavender. "You're just the man for the job."

"I am, aren't I? And he's so precise and talented with potions. I bet he's skillful at everything he does."

"Again, Seamus, you're just the man to find out. Tell us, how would you go about it?" Lavender, vying with Seamus for the title of Gryffindor smut-queen, egged him on mercilessly.

"Hmmm… First, I'd have to get him to give me detention," Seamus said thoughtfully. "Hermione, maybe you could give me some pointers, there."

"I don't think you need my help, Seamus," Hermione chuckled. "I'm confident you could come up with something naughty to do all on your own."

"Why thank you. I do have a knack for naughtiness. So – he'd give me detention, and I'd show up for it late. That would put me in control, making him wait on me. Plus, it would infuriate him, get his emotions closer to the surface, so it would be easier for me to get him to the breaking point. I'd show up all untucked and tousled, with that just-shagged look. He'd be busy working on some papers or something, and start speaking before he even looked up at me. 'You're late, Mr. Finnigan. I think a second night's detention will help you learn punctuality.' And then I'd tell him how much I would love to have a second night's detention, and he would finally look up at me and see my clothing and hair all rumpled sexily."

"Like this, Seamus?" Lavender reached over and tousled Seamus's hair.

"Yeah, Lavender, like that. And he'd say, 'Perhaps I should also arrange detention for the student who detained you this evening, for her part in making me wait.' And I'd tell him cheekily that he was wrong on two counts. First, that it was actually a boy who detained me, and secondly, that one-on-one detention would be better because we both know he wants me all to himself. Then I'd swagger up to him – he'd look more and more alarmed as I got closer – and I'd grab him by his cloak – and now I'd see absolute terror in his eyes – and I'd pull him down to me and kiss him very hard."

"Ewwww!" Everyone was shocked. The girls giggled, and Neville actually looked like he might be sick.

"Wait, it gets better," cried Seamus, totally enjoying his role as storyteller. When his audience settled down enough to listen again, he continued. "Snape would be shocked, of course, but then he'd start to enjoy it and he'd kiss me back, ramming his tongue down my throat and grabbing my tight Irish arse. Then he'd realize that I'd cracked his cool, and he'd get angry."

"Ooooh," his audience chorused, shivering at the image of an angry Snape.

"And he'd shout, 'Three nights' detention, Mr. Finnigan!' and he'd slam me onto his desk and have his way with me!"

Several people fell onto the floor, they were laughing so hard.

"Come on," Seamus coaxed the others when they had sufficiently recovered, "you never thought of seducing a teacher? Who would you most like to have detention with?"

"Firenze," said Parvati and Lavender at once, and in perfect unison.

"Really?" Hermione had never had class with Firenze, and couldn't imagine why so many students went weak in the knees at the mention of the centaur's name.

"Oh, absolutely," sighed Parvati. "He's gorgeous."

"And hung like a horse," added Lavender, lasciviously.

"Whoa," cried Hermione, covering Ginny's ears.

"I can listen! I'm fourteen," she protested loudly. "So, really, in class, you can see all that, Lavender?"

"Well, what did you think? That he wears pants?"

"That must be pretty distracting, though," said Ginny. "How can you learn anything, with that swinging around in front of you?"

"It is pretty distracting," agreed Neville. "I try not to look, but it's hard not to."

"Yeah, it's a bit intimidating, too," said Dean, "even for me!" Parvati and Lavender screamed with laughter. Ginny arched her eyebrows at Hermione, and giggled.

"Well, I wasn't really thinking of that aspect," said Parvati, once she had settled down again. "He's just gorgeous. He makes me want to let my hair down and ride him bareback… naked."

"Very Lady Godiva of you," observed Hermione.

Parvati looked at her in confusion. "Who?"

"Never mind." Really. Wizarding folk were, in general, totally ignorant of muggle history, myth, and legend. Muggle Studies should be a required course, rather than an elective.

"Harry's ridden him," supplied Neville, attempting to be helpful.

"NAKED?" Parvati, Lavender, and Ginny shouted the question simultaneously.

"Reminds me of a play I saw once in London… 'Equus.' A very disturbed boy rides horses bareback and naked," Hermione mused, but no one paid her any attention. All eyes were still on Neville, waiting to hear the story of Harry's ride on Firenze, and whether or not there were clothes involved.

"N- No," Neville stuttered. "We all had clothes on. But Firenze saved Harry's life. Y- y- you all want to see Harry naked?"

"Not me," said Hermione. "He's too much like a brother. It would just be weird."

"Well, my parents have practically adopted him, but he's not too much like a brother to me," Ginny said, grinning. "In fact," she said, lowering her voice, "do you think there's anything I could do wrong during a D.A. meeting to get Harry to give me detention?"

"Don't worry, sweetheart," said Lavender, a gleam in her eye. "We'll work on that idea and see what we can come up with for you."

"What would you do then," Parvati asked eagerly, "once you had Harry alone in the Room of Requirement?"

"She'd say she bets he misses flying since Umbridge grounded him, and offer to let him ride her like a broomstick!"

"Lavender!" Hermione could not believe Lavender had said that, not least because Ginny's big brother and Harry's best friend, Ron, was starting to get very red around the ears.

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "But what about you, Hermione? Who would you like to have for detention, other than Snape of course?"

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. Well, it doesn't matter who I would pick, because he doesn't teach here anymore."

"Oh, Lockhart," sighed Parvati.

"No! What a fraud he turned out to be," said Hermione.

"Yes, but he was definitely dreamy," she sighed again.

"Let's see then, we can figure this out," said Lavender, going through the teaching rosters in her head. "What teachers are gone now? Not Quirrell, surely…"

"No!" Hermione was affronted by the mere thought.

"Not Professor Kettleburn? Or Professor Moody?"

"No, Lavender!"

"I bet that magical eye has already seen through your clothes, Hermione," said Seamus, with a wink.

"Not Mad-Eye Moody," Hermione stated firmly, hoping that Seamus was wrong about Moody's wandering eye.

"Oh Merlin," shouted Lavender. "It's Professor Lupin!"

Parvati looked scandalized. "But Hermione! He's a werewolf!"

"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "He is. But I love how he's the nicest, tamest, most thoughtful guy most of the time – all tattered sweaters and jazz music on the record player, rumpled and smart and shy – but so dangerous at the full moon – claws and teeth and uncontrolled animal passion."

"So what you're saying, Hermione," said Lavender with an evil laugh, "is that for most people, the thought of getting eaten by a werewolf is a nightmare – but for you, it's a sexual fantasy!"

Hermione blushed and laughed. Ginny eyed her knowingly, but Ron just sat there with his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"Who's next," Seamus asked. "How about you, Ron?"

"What?" He was still trying to process what he had just heard.

"Who would you want for your detention?"

"I don't know… I don't really fancy any of the teachers."

"Awww, come on! Just for fun, Ron, pick somebody!"

"Well, if we could get Madam Rosmerta to come teach a class on managing an inn, I'd certainly want detention in that class…" He looked at Hermione, perhaps hoping to see her get jealous.

"Doesn't count! Not on staff, never has been, and never will be," Seamus declared. Ron seemed relieved just to be off the hook. "Neville? How about you?"

"Maybe…" Neville glanced nervously around the group.

"Spit it out, man," laughed Dean.

"Maybe Professor Sprout?"

"Tell us why you picked Professor Sprout, Neville," Hermione said, encouragingly.

"Because you know that whatever she does, it's bound to be dirty?"

"Neville," cried Seamus. "You made a joke, mate! And a good one! Okay, Dean – it's up to you, man. Your pick for a dirty detention?"

"Definitely McGonagall."

"Ewwww," everyone chorused again.

Seamus laughed at his best friend. "Why, mate, why? I didn't know you had a thing for older women!"

Dean put on a falsetto voice, and cried, "Oh, oh, oh, yes, Mr. Thomas! Five hundred points to Gryffindor!"

"Hooray," they all cheered. "We win the House Cup! Go, Dean!"

Just then, the portrait hole opened, and Harry stumbled in, looking like hell. "What? How did Dean win us the House Cup? What did I miss?"

"You do not want to know, mate," Ron told him. "You just do not want to know."

* * *

A/N: Another unplanned chapter. And I'm up too frigging late again. So: NEXT chapter will have more sexual tension, and the one after that will be the full moon, with whatever kind of tension that turns out to be. I'm done for several days, and now I MEAN it. I've got to get ready for this blasted weekend workshop I'm going to. Gotta do the required reading & pack. Don't even know if they have internet access there, but I will bring my laptop just in case.

p.s. I just couldn't resist an Equus reference, after Parvati talked about her fantasy. If it brought any happy images of naked Dan Radcliffe to your mind, then my work here is done. For now, that is….


	23. Chapter 23: Lunacy

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 23: Lunacy

* * *

Harry caught Hermione's arm at breakfast on Tuesday, and asked her quietly to use the Protean charm to schedule a D.A. meeting for that night. Excellent – that was exactly what she needed. She was eager to lose herself in an evening spent learning to fight. Time usually seemed to fly during D.A. meetings, and she hoped this time would be no different.

Harry was in his element during these gatherings. He slipped easily into the role of a leader, and within fifteen minutes he was in full-fledged teacher mode. "Tonight we'll start by practicing the leg-locker curse, Locomotor Mortis. It's not as dramatic as the full-body bind, Petrificus Totalis, but sometimes it's all you need. If you are being chased, for instance, a well-aimed leg-locker curse will effectively stop your pursuer. Let's give it a try: find a partner, and practice casting the spell at each other. Don't bother with blocking it at this point – I just want to make sure you can all cast it effectively."

Hermione paired up with Luna, and they moved off to one side to start practicing. "You can go first," said Hermione.

"Whatever you like," said Luna dreamily, and she pointed her wand at Hermione. "Locomotor Mortis!"

Luna didn't seem to need any practice: the curse hit its mark. Hermione found it hard to stay balanced with her legs stuck together, and she had to hop around to keep from falling over. "You're bouncing like a hare," Luna laughed, and released her from the spell. "Your turn now, Hermione!"

Hermione fired the curse at Luna. Nothing happened. What the hell? Hermione had been casting this spell since first year! "Luna? Are your legs locked?"

"Yes! You did it perfectly! Hooray for you!" Luna clapped her hands in appreciation of the well-cast spell.

"Then why aren't you hopping around?"

"I guess I'm just balancing. But great job! My turn next!"

Hermione released her, shaking her head, and braced herself to receive Luna's next try. I've got good balance, she told herself. I'm not going to hop like a hare, this time.

Luna fired, and Hermione resisted the urge to hop. Instead, she wobbled, overcorrected, and fell backward, landing hard on the floor. "Ow!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Luna cried, running over to help Hermione. "Are you okay?" She lifted the curse.

Hermione took the proffered hand, and stood, rubbing her tender backside. "Yeah, I'm fine, Luna. Thanks for helping me up. You ready?"

Luna returned to her original spot, and nodded.

"Locomotor Mortis!" Hermione fired again, and Luna just stood there and smiled at her.

"Excellent job, Hermione! They're locked again!" Luna stood there, calmly, while all around her the other D.A. members were hopping madly or keeling over.

"How do you DO that, Luna?" Hermione was impressed.

"I just don't lean too far in any direction. You just have to know where your center is. You want to try it again?"

"I guess so," Hermione said, somewhat amused. That Luna – she was one of a kind, no question. She released Luna from the curse with a chuckled, "Finite." There was no visible change, but Luna thanked her, and prepared to fire the curse back again. Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, straightening her posture, and trying to feel centered. Funny, the exercise Harry had set them was to practice casting the curse. Somehow for Hermione the challenge had become to remain standing once the curse hit. I will not hop this time, and I will not fall, Hermione told herself.

"Locomotor Mortis!"

Hermione teetered wildly, arms flailing.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Luna cried, and levitated a cushion to the spot behind Hermione just as she toppled.

"That was very thoughtful of you, Luna! I thank you, and my aching arse thanks you," she laughed. "Orchideous! Here, these are for you." She handed Luna a bouquet of flowers, as Luna released her from the leg-locker curse. "Oh, they're a little wilted – that was my first time trying that spell. Maybe they need a little water? Aguamenti!"

Luna had taken her hand and was trying to tug her up to standing, just as Hermione was attempting to water the bouquet. The watering charm got knocked off course, and rained down on both girls, drenching them thoroughly. They shook the water out of their eyes and squeezed it out of their hair, giggling. "Well, at least the flowers look better," said Hermione brightly. The bouquet had, indeed, perked up considerably.

"They're lovely, Hermione! How sweet! I'm so tickled!"

"No," giggled Hermione, "now you're tickled: Rictusempra!"

Luna screamed with laughter as the tickling charm hit her. She laughed so hard that she fell over. Luckily, she landed on the cushion she had supplied for Hermione. "I'll get… you … for that… Hermioneeee," she gasped between peals of laughter. "Tar- tar- tarantallegra!"

Hermione's legs began to flail uncontrollably in a fast, wild dance. "I can't believe you did, that, Luna," she laughed. Her legs were moving so fast she lost balance again, and tumbled onto the cushion with Luna. And everything else faded away. There was nothing in Hermione's universe but Luna and laughter, wet skin and thrashing limbs, as their bodies rolled around, becoming hopelessly tangled up in each other. How long they wrestled in this fashion, Hermione had no idea.

"Finite Incantatem," Harry's voice boomed. Hermione's legs stopped moving of their own accord, and Luna stopped convulsing so hard. Luna collapsed onto the cushion, and Hermione collapsed onto her chest, their arms around each other, both girls still giggling and gasping for air. Gradually, Hermione began to sense that something was wrong. The Room of Requirement was quiet. Too quiet. It was usually a very loud place during D.A. meetings, what with hexes, curses, and charms flying, blocks being thrown up, and things crashing around the room or exploding into tiny bits. Slowly, Hermione peeled herself off of Luna, and looked up. Bloody hell. The entire D.A. was standing in a ring around the two girls. Most mouths were agape, and eyes wide. For a long moment, the room was utterly silent.

"Get a room, you two," called a voice from the back of the crowd, sounding suspiciously like Lavender Brown.

"Damn, Colin, where's your camera when you need it? You could have made some serious money selling shots of that to Witches Gone Wild," came the voice of Dean Thomas, from somewhere beyond Hermione's line of sight.

"Harry, you're such a spoilsport," said Seamus, who had a spot in the front row, and wore an enormous grin. "Now we'll never know what would have happened!"

Hermione stood with as much dignity as she could muster, and helped Luna up as well. "What are you lot looking at," she asked them defiantly, still holding Luna's hand. Luna stared at the ceiling, and twirled her wet hair around her fingers.

The crowd began to break up, as pairs of grumbling students went back to practicing their curses. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the twins remained.

"What the hell, Hermione," started Harry, but he seemed at a loss for how to continue. "I… You… I thought you were serious about this stuff, Hermione! Hell, you're the one who started the whole idea! You're the one who said people would want to learn this stuff, and now you…" Ginny stroked his back, attempting to calm him down. He seemed to respond to her touch to some degree, as he stopped yelling, but still glared at Hermione accusingly.

Back off, Harry, Hermione thought, but she bit her tongue, and counted silently to ten before answering him. "Sorry, Harry. We just got carried away, is all. Won't happen again." It was a promise she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep. Something about Luna made her forget herself. She liked it.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He was still red-faced with anger.

Hermione pulled Luna closer, ignoring Harry's sputtering, and whispered urgently into her small, pink ear, "Picnic again tomorrow?"

Luna nodded happily. "How about lunch?"

"I'll bring sandwiches, you bring the blanket."

"That sounds lovely. Shall we get back to practicing, then?"

"Actually, Luna, I think I've had enough for one night. Would you mind terribly if I called it quits?"

"No, Hermione, I wouldn't mind. In fact, I think maybe I'm a little tired myself after laughing so hard. Maybe I'll turn in as well."

Hermione pulled back from Luna's ear, and addressed Harry again, who still looked rather steamed, despite Ginny's soothing ministrations. "Hey, Harry, I hope you don't mind if Luna and I both leave the meeting early this time. We're both knackered, and we're going to turn in." Harry merely stared at her as if he didn't recognize her.

Ron finally found his voice. "Together? You and she… turning in… together?"

"No! No, Ron, not TOGETHER together," Hermione quickly corrected him. Merlin, that's not what Luna was thinking, was it? She glanced at the blonde girl's face, but she didn't seem at all upset about Hermione's protestations. "No, we're each going to our own dormitories, of course. Right, Luna?"

Luna squeezed Hermione's hand, which she was still holding. "Okay, Hermione," she agreed amiably.

"Yes, we think you should both go get out of those wet clothes," said Fred.

George nodded earnestly. "Definitely," he said. "Right away."

"That's a good idea," said Luna. "I'm so damp I'm dripping on the floor." She looked up at Hermione sweetly. "How about you?"

Hermione gulped, and considered her answer for a moment. Yes, she too was sopping wet – as much from arousal as from the misfired watering charm. She knew what the twins had been insinuating with their 'helpful' suggestion. But what, precisely, had Luna meant? "Me, too," was all Hermione felt safe offering in reply.

As Luna bent to retrieve her bouquet, Fred and George winked at Hermione. "Sweet dreams, Hermione," sang Fred.

"You, too, Luna," sang George.

"They seem like such nice boys," Luna said a minute later, as the girls headed up the hallway hand in hand.

Hermione nodded, not trusting what would come out of her mouth, were she to speak.

They stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Th- this is my stop," stuttered Hermione. Why was she suddenly so nervous? Her mouth had gone dry. She licked her lips.

"I had a lot of fun with you at the meeting tonight," said Luna quietly, gazing up at Hermione.

What big eyes you have, my dear, thought Hermione, feeling a bit like a fairy tale wolf. "I did too."

"And I'm really looking forward to our picnic lunch tomorrow," Luna added, pressing Hermione's hand affectionately. Her hand was soft and warm.

"I am, too," said Hermione, pulling the smaller girl a little closer, though for the life of her, Hermione couldn't say exactly why. She wasn't going to kiss Luna… was she? And where had her command of the English language gone? Luna's soft hands and silvery eyes had reduced her to monosyllabic speech – the vocabulary of a two year old.

"Until tomorrow, then," said Luna softly, and she raised up slightly on her toes, and brushed her lips against Hermione's for the barest of goodnight kisses.

The sensation was electric: all of Hermione's nerve endings stood at attention, and her lips felt as if they were on fire. Her brain cells began firing wildly, flashing on the empty fifth-year girls' dormitory just beyond the portrait hole. Parvati and Lavender would be at the D.A. meeting for, oh, at LEAST another half hour, wouldn't they? But Luna had pulled back and released Hermione's hand. She was walking away. Hermione's heart pounded in her chest, watching her go. "Until tomorrow," she finally croaked. Luna turned and waved before rounding a corner, and then she was gone. Hermione exhaled loudly, and turned to the Fat Lady. Her brain had gone numb after its wild efforts of a moment ago, and it took Hermione several seconds to recall the password. "Cupid's arrow," she finally said, and the portrait swung open.

"Branching out a bit, aren't we, dearie?" The Fat Lady chuckled softly as Hermione entered, and started furiously knitting elf hats again.

* * *

Knitting kept her hands busy, but Hermione found her brain wouldn't stay focused on the task at hand. She replayed her goodnight exchange with Luna over and over again, wondering if she should have thrown caution to the wind and snogged the girl senseless right there in the hallway, or pulled her up to the dormitory to see what happened next. She brushed her fingers over her lips, which were still tingling from the momentary contact with Luna's mouth. She imagined scenario after scenario for the picnic lunch the next day, trying to decide what to do and say when she saw Luna next.

When the portrait hole opened next, and the Gryffindor members of the D.A. filed in, Hermione dropped her knitting immediately and raced up the stairs. She didn't want to deal with their questions or their teasing. She pulled off her clothes, and slipped on her Sex Kitten t-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, and climbed into bed. When Lavender and Parvati arrived in the dormitory, Hermione pretended she was fast asleep.

If only she were able to sleep… Long after their giggles and whispers subsided and she heard only steady breathing and light snores from her roommates, Hermione lay awake, her mind still reeling. Finally she decided there was only one way she would be able to sleep that night, and she employed her favorite sleep aid once more. But the hands she imagined sliding into her pajamas and stroking her this time were not the strong hands of Remus Lupin, or the large hands of Sirius Black, or even the long-fingered hands of Fred or George. They were small, delicate, ivory hands, and they did the trick quite effectively. At long last Fred's wishes for her came true: she did have very sweet dreams that night after all.

* * *

Amazingly, she awoke feeling refreshed, though still anxious about her lunch date. She dressed quickly, ignoring Lavender's giggles and Parvati's dark, questioning eyes, and she stumbled into the common room on her way downstairs to breakfast. Two figures that had been hidden in high-backed chairs rose simultaneously, and the next thing she knew, Fred and George were on either side of her again.

"So help me," she said, as they exited through the portrait hole, "you'd better not kidnap me again!"

"Well, we won't have to kidnap you, if you come willingly," argued George.

"I told you," she whispered fiercely, "that was a one time thing!"

Fred grinned, obviously reminiscing about the mop bucket again. "We had hoped you'd give us another chance," he said, "as the broom cupboard was rather restrictive. We're much better when we've got some space to move around in, and a desk, a table, a countertop, or a bed to work with."

Hermione stumbled slightly as her knees got a little weak, but since she was now walking arm in arm with both twins, she didn't trip or fall. A desk or a table… Yes, she could see how they could really get creative with a bit of space and some convenient furniture. But she shook her head to clear those images. It was a one-time thing, and she had other priorities now anyway. George was speaking. How long had he been speaking? Had she missed anything important?

"…But we could see last night that you're rather hopelessly hung up on Luna at the moment," he was saying. "And honestly, you two do make a scorching couple. So, in light of our earlier conversation, and our discovery that you really do love the male anatomy, we've been putting our heads together to try to help you."

"Our literal heads," added Fred. "The ones we think with."

"Not sure that clarifies things at all, Fred," chuckled George. "Sometimes we do a bit of thinking with the lower heads, don't we?"

"You two," Hermione pretend-scolded them. "Are you ever serious?"

"We are very serious," protested Fred. "And when we put our minds to solving a problem, you can bet we'll get it solved. So we've come up with four possible solutions for you, should you wind up in a long-term relationship with Miss Lovegood, and you're getting the good loving, but find that you still miss a good hard cock now and again."

"Really! Four solutions?"

"Yes, but if you want to hear them, we'd probably better get out of the middle of the hallway. This is not likely to be a conversation you'd want overheard."

"True," she admitted. "Where can we go?"

They had been descending staircases as they talked and had reached the fourth floor. "Our broom cupboard is close by," suggested George.

"Oh, all right. But I mean it! It was a..."

"A one-time thing," said Fred, finished her sentence. "We know, and it makes us very sad. But right now it's your happiness we're focused on, right?"

They checked the hallway and found it clear, and slipped inside the familiar cramped space. "I'll take the mop bucket seat this time," said George, grabbing Hermione by the hips and tugging her down. Fred cast the silencing charm again, and locked the door.

"No thanks," she told George, "I'll stand." She stood, but that meant she was face to face with Fred, with her breasts brushing against him. Hmmm… That position might not be much better. "Oh damn it all. Fine, I'll sit. But…"

"I know, I know," George laughed. "One time only, I know. Come on down, love." He held her hips and guided her down to his lap. She perched, trying to sit further out toward his knees, so that she wasn't in full contact with his pelvis. But it wasn't very comfortable, and with a resigned sigh, she slid back, now leaning against George's chest, and sitting more comfortably in the center of his lap.

"Okay, talk. You had four solutions." The last time she had been leaning into George's chest… No – focus on the conversation, and then GET OUT of the broom cupboard!

"Number One," announced Fred, whose crotch, of course, was directly in front of Hermione's face. "You don't know if Luna might have any metamorphmagus blood, do you? 'Cause if it was Tonks, she could just…"

She craned her neck to look at him in the dim light provided by their wands. "Oh, my goodness, Fred! Do you really think Tonks is capable of that extreme of a change?" The thought boggled the mind.

"Why not? You see what she can do with her face. It's the same idea, only a different part of the body. I bet she can sprout a lovely big dick if she wants to."

"Oh, Fred… I'm never going to be able to look Tonks in the face again! But as intriguing as that idea is, I doubt that Luna has that kind of ability. She's not mentioned it, anyway."

"Number Two, then," said George, behind her, his breath hot on her neck in the cramped space. "Assuming Luna has the same needs you do, you could just invite over a bloke – or two – now and then for a special treat. I can't imagine that you'd have any trouble finding volunteers."

"I have a feeling I am sharing a broom cupboard with two potential volunteers right now."

"We do love to be helpful," said George, and Hermione felt a familiar stirring in his lap.

"Thanks," she said, resolutely ignoring the growing bulge beneath her. "And solution Number Three?"

"Well, it hasn't been invented yet," admitted Fred, "but we'll get to work on it right away. It could be the beginning of a whole new line of products for us! We're imagining sort of a pretend cock that one of you could attach when you need it…"

"That has been invented already, you idiots! Muggles have had strap-ons for years. I always imagined they would feel so artificial, though."

"That's why a magical one would be so much better, Hermione! We'll figure out a way to make it feel absolutely real, for both partners. And you could customize it, to the exact color and dimensions you wanted, with just the right amount of bend in it to hit all your favorite spots!" Fred was obviously excited about this new product idea. The evidence was right in front of her nose. She craned her neck again to try to watch his face, instead. "Of course, we'll need product testers… Maybe you and Luna could help us in the research and development!"

"Goodness, Fred! Those improvements would probably make your product quite a hit. You could probably demand a high price if you can really get it to work like that!"

"Hermione," George protested, "We're not in this for the money. It's a humanitarian effort. We only want to make the world a better place."

"Oh, forgive me," she snickered. "You're a regular Mahatma Gandhi of magical sex toys."

Both twins were silent for a moment. Then, together, they asked, "Who?"

"Oh, for crap's sake! Take Muggle Studies, you idiots!"

"Sorry," said George. "Fred, where were we before she called us idiots?"

"I think we were sharing our brilliant ideas for her future sexual satisfaction, and enlisting her as a potential test subject."

"Oh, and by the way," Hermione added, "you're still rather premature in trying to enlist me and Luna as test subjects. We haven't even kissed. I don't even know if she likes girls. Hell, I don't even know if I like girls!" But she remembered how she had lit up like a Christmas tree when Luna's lips had brushed hers, and the imaginary feel of Luna's delicate hands stroking her skillfully, and she blushed. In the dark of the cupboard, and with one twin's face behind her and the other twin's face a few feet above her, they didn't notice. But George definitely noticed her involuntary shiver and squirm, and her seat became even less comfortable as his body responded. Admirably, he stifled his moan, so Fred didn't know what was happening in the slim boundary between his brother and his friend.

"I don't know, Hermione," Fred retorted. "You certainly looked like you were getting along very well last night at the D.A. meeting. I'd say things look promising. And did I overhear you setting up plans for a clandestine meeting with her today?"

"That's none of your business. You Weasleys are a nosey bunch, you know that? Now… you had a fourth idea? Let's hear it, because I think we're missing breakfast entirely." Her stomach rumbled, as if seconding the motion.

"Number Four," announced Fred, "and we think you're really going to like this one. It sort of combines all the best parts of each of the earlier ideas."

"Oh good grief, just spill it already, Fred!"

"Patience, Hermione," he teased. "Good things come to those who wait. Now: what if there was a way you could sort of invite a guy into your bed now and then, but without having to have a third person there? And one of you could have a lovely, fully functioning, not-artificial-in-any-way cock? What if you could transform your body without having to be a metamorphmagus?"

"Merlin's Pants," Hermione shouted. "POLYJUICE POTION!"

"Yes, exactly," laughed Fred.

"I think she likes the idea," chuckled George.

Holy crap, she thought. What a brilliant idea. Kinky, yes, but brilliant in so many ways! The entire world of sex was open to her, no matter where things went with Luna – assuming Luna would go for it, too. All they'd need was a little bit of some man, preferably one with an awesome body… Oh, the possibilities. She wondered if Remus or Sirius would be willing to donate a little hair… What an idea! Polyjuice potion for lovers… It would still be sex with the person you love, just with… perks! And variety! The implications for sexual role-playing games alone were staggering.

She turned as much as possible, and kissed George full on the mouth, then jumped up and did the same to Fred. "You two are so much smarter than you look!"

"Yeah, we're not just a pair of pretty faces," laughed George.

"We've got some brains to go with our brawn," added Fred (who did love to alliterate).

"I'm heading to breakfast. Thanks for all the time and energy you've obviously put into this for me! I feel much more comfortable now letting things with Luna go wherever they go, knowing that I will always have options. You two coming along?"

"Ah…no. Not yet," said George, whose erection was clearly visible through his trousers now that Hermione was standing.

"Hmmm, yeah," agreed Fred. "I think we might need a few minutes before we're ready to walk into the Dining Hall. This has been… well, a stimulating conversation, Hermione."

"I agree," she laughed. "There are just all kinds of advantages to having female anatomy, aren't there? Well – I'll see you later!" And with that, she unlocked the door, and jogged down the stairs, hoping she still had time for a quick coffee and… well, maybe a banana. For some reason, she was in the mood for a banana.

* * *

A/N: I'm OBSESSED! I can't stop writing! And I still haven't even gotten to the lunch date! How cruel would I be to make you wait until next week to find out what happens during the next Private Picnic in Greenhouse Three?

Many many thanks to all of my lovely reviewers. Hope this chapter works for you as well. So – question: if you could Polyjuice your lover, who would you want a bit of for that potion? Really, the implications are staggering. I feel a future fanfiction coming on, based on this idea.

Love to you all! -IJDTW


	24. Chapter 24: Nirvana

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 24: Nirvana

A/N: Special thanks to my dear Felena1971, who read an early draft of part of this chapter, and offered a few corrections and plot suggestions. You'll note, darling, that I gave in to your begging….

* * *

At lunchtime, Hermione raced out of the Great Hall toward the greenhouses, robes and hair flying behind her. She pushed open the door of Greenhouse Three to find Luna, sitting serenely on the blue paid picnic blanket, bare legs crossed comfortably, and her school uniform shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows.

"Hi," Luna said simply.

Hermione grinned as she removed her own robe, jumper and tie, stuffed her stockings into her shoes, and tucked the whole pile under a workbench. She kneeled on the picnic blanket and rolled up her sleeves before digging into her bag and pulling out their lunch.

"I brought us egg salad and watercress sandwiches – Dobby set them aside for me special this morning. And I brought a couple of bottles of butterbeer." She handed Luna her lunch, suddenly feeling shy. Though she had been looking forward to this moment all morning, Hermione suddenly found she had no idea what to say.

The girls ate in silence for a few minutes, until both of them started speaking at exactly the same moment.

"So, D.A. was fun," said Hermione, just as Luna asked, "Where did you learn that Rictusempra charm?"

"Yes, too bad we got Harry so mad," agreed Luna, just as Hermione replied, "In Gilderoy Lockhart's dueling club, during my second year."

They both laughed, and Luna gestured that it was Hermione's turn to speak.

"Don't worry about Harry," Hermione said, more confidently than she really felt, "He'll get over it."

"I do hope you're right, and that he gets over it quickly," said Luna, her wide eyes earnest. "You two have been so close for so many years. It must be hard to have him feeling angry with you."

"He's been angry with me before. During our third year, he got a fancy new broomstick from an anonymous source, and I was worried that it might have been cursed. I told Professor McGonagall my suspicions, and she agreed. She took his broomstick away to strip it down and test it for hexes and curses, and didn't give it back for a really long time. He was so mad he didn't even speak to me for a while. We made it through that, so I'm sure our friendship will survive this."

"I can understand why he was upset with us. He works hard teaching the D.A., and we got so involved with each other that he thought we weren't being respectful of his class. He is such a good teacher, Hermione. You were very perceptive to see that potential in him."

"I agree. He has been a good teacher – it seems to come to him naturally. I didn't plan it that way, exactly, so I don't know that I'm really all that perceptive. I just knew he was good at defense, and we needed a real teacher. We couldn't go through the whole year and not learn anything, especially with Voldemort out there gaining power."

"You're brave to want to fight He Who Must Not Be Named. I'm sure that's why you got sorted into Gryffindor, but I have always thought you would have made a good Ravenclaw, because you're so intelligent."

Twice in one week, Hermione mused, that my house assignment has been called into question. First Professor Snape says I acted like a member of his house, and now Luna says I would have done well in hers. Now if Professor Sprout walks in and tells me I should have been sorted into Hufflepuff, I'll have the trifecta! It just goes to show that house divisions are arbitrary, and that people are too complex to be sorted by personality traits into just one house. In fact, Luna herself could easily have landed in Gryffindor…

She decided to point that fact out to Luna. "Thanks for saying I could have been in your house, Luna. I also happen to think you could have been in mine. I think you have definite Gryffindor traits: you strike me as a very courageous person."

"That's nice of you to say, Hermione, but I don't feel particularly brave, nor particularly cowardly. What makes you think I'd do well in Gryffindor?"

Hermione took a long sip of butterbeer and considered the question. How to answer, so that it doesn't come out all wrong? "You stand by your convictions even when other people disagree."

"Well of course I do," laughed Luna, looking at Hermione as though she had two heads. "Truth doesn't change just because an idea is popular or unpopular."

How very Luna, thought Hermione. "Yes, but lots of people would at least pretend to agree with a popular belief, even if they felt it was untrue, so that they wouldn't stand out as different. I could never see you doing that."

"I could never see you doing that either, Hermione."

Hermione thought about that for a minute. "I guess you're right," she finally admitted. She had never changed who she was in order to be popular. But it had made for a fairly lonely childhood – no siblings, and not many friends, as most children seemed to be intimidated by her. "Maybe the difference, Luna, is that I sometimes felt sad about not being more popular, but you seem to be totally at ease just being yourself."

"I'm sorry you let yourself feel sad about that, Hermione. There's really no need. You're wonderful just the way you are!"

"How very sweet of you, Luna," Hermione laughed. "I feel pretty wonderful these days. I try to keep in mind the words of Eleanor Roosevelt, an American muggle who worked for civil rights. She said, 'no one can make you feel inferior without your permission.' So I eventually stopped giving people permission to make me feel bad for being me."

"You do say the strangest things, sometimes, Hermione. I'm at ease being myself, and you don't feel bad anymore about being yourself… Well, who else would we be?"

Did Luna Lovegood just tell me that I say the strangest things, Hermione asked herself in disbelief. Snape is proud of me, and Luna thinks I'm strange – my life has certainly gotten weird lately. And given that in the past four years I have been attacked by a mountain troll, petrified by a basilisk, chased by a werewolf, and held hostage by merpeople, that's really saying something.

"I just mean that you seem so perfectly at home in your own skin." Ahhh, such skin. Luna had unbuttoned the top three buttons of her school blouse, in the heat of the greenhouse. The tops of her breasts were just visible, and they looked soft and inviting. Hermione dragged her brown eyes back up to Luna's silvery ones, to find them looking at her, totally bemused.

"You're so funny," Luna chuckled. "Who wouldn't be at home in her own skin? Goodness, I've been in this skin since before I was born!"

"I guess that is a silly expression. You're right, of course, Luna. I'm just trying to say that I find you to be an incredibly authentic person. And that takes bravery. I really admire that about you."

"Well thank you, even though it doesn't feel brave, it feels natural. I'm just being the only way I know how to be."

"Here's to you being you, and me being me, then," laughed Hermione, and pulled out some Nirvana Chocolates – Belgian chocolates that Remus had given her as a parting gift at the end of the holiday. The dark chocolates in particular tasted decadent, and for some reason Hermione had felt the impulse to bring a few to share with Luna. She handed one small paper-wrapped treat to her, and opened one for herself. "Oh, no," she sighed. "I guess I wasn't thinking when I brought these today. They've gotten so melted in this heat that I think they're inedible."

But Luna wasn't listening. She had opened the wrapper of her chocolate, and was licking the sinfully dark treat right off the paper. Her pink tongue slid out of her mouth, making as full contact with the wrapper as possible, and then slowly licked upward. She pulled the tongue back into her mouth, closed her eyes, and let the chocolate melt in her mouth as she made a low "mmmmmm" sound in her throat. Hermione stared openly, trying to be as silent as possible, so as not to distract Luna from her task. To her delight, Luna adjusted the angle of the wrapper and repeated the entire procedure. Hermione was absolutely mesmerized watching her systematically divest the paper of any trace of chocolate. When every possible molecule had been licked off, Luna looked up to find Hermione watching her intently.

"What?" Luna's wide eyes and pale eyebrows contributed greatly to her expression of surprised innocence.

Just say something, Hermione told herself. This might be your only chance. Tomorrow night you could be werewolf chow.

"Luna, I've got something to say, and I'm terrified to say it. Please tell me you won't hate me if I say something really strange to you."

"Hermione, you say strange things to me all the time, like that stuff about being at home in my skin. Just say what you need to say. I couldn't hate you. "

"Okay, Luna… Here goes." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before letting the words spill out. "I can't seem to stop thinking about you lately. I don't know if you like girls… Hell, I don't even know if I like girls… but… well, right then I was wishing I could transform myself into that wrapper, so you'd be licking chocolate off of me and making those soft moaning noises…" Hermione's heartbeat pounded in her ears, as the silence stretched into several seconds. She forgot to breathe, waiting for Luna's response.

Luna's usually silvery eyes had become a dark, stormy gray. She inched closer to Hermione, and swiped her index finger through the chocolate the brunette still held, untouched and untasted, in her hands. Gently, she smeared it onto Hermione's lips, as if adorning her with chocolate lip-gloss. When Hermione's tongue darted out to lick it off, Luna shook her head, and leaned even closer. She offered Hermione her chocolate-covered index finger.

Hermione felt dizzy. She dropped her piece of chocolate (what was left of it), and clutched at Luna's outstretched arm to steady herself. Then she brought the finger to her mouth, and licked it tentatively. Oh, the chocolate was delectable, and having her mouth on any part of Luna was too enticing. Throwing caution to the wind, she pulled the entire finger into her mouth, and sucked it, from the closely-cut fingernail down to the delicate flesh near the palm. She sighed happily, and curled Luna's other fingers so that Luna's hand caressed her cheek.

Luna gently removed her finger from Hermione's mouth, but continued to cup Hermione's cheek as she closed the distance between them. She licked the remaining chocolate from Hermione's lips, moaning quietly just as she had before. It was heaven. Luna made Hermione feel delicious and desirable. Womanly and wanton. Their lips pressed together, and Luna's tongue probed gently at the corner of Hermione's mouth. She opened her lips slightly, allowing the tongue entrance. For a long moment, they shared a chocolatey kiss, as their tongues explored the contours of each other's mouths.

But after a minute, Hermione broke the kiss, and cried, "Oh, Luna… I don't know what I'm doing!"

Luna stroked her face, and brushed their lips together again. "I think you're doing fine, Hermione. It feels good to me. Doesn't it feel good to you?"

"Yes, Luna, of course it does. How could it not? That was an incredible kiss. But I mean… I don't know what I'm doing with you. I mean, here we are kissing, and in two days we have a date for Valentine's Day, and… what does it all mean?"

Luna's brow furrowed, as she tried to understand Hermione's hesitation. "It means that we like each other Hermione. At least, I like you. And you seem to like me. Does that answer your question?"

"So… you do like girls, then?" Hermione's tone was hopeful.

"Oh, girls, boys… I don't really get hung up on the gender issue. I care more about a person's kindness, loyalty, intelligence, passion, and humor. And I've noticed you have all of those qualities in abundance, by the way. But all human bodies are beautiful, male and female alike, don't you think?"

"Luna, that's one of the reasons I like you so much. Whatever the common view of something might be, I can count on you to have a fresh perspective. And somehow that perspective always seems to be… higher, or something – coming from a position of a truly open mind. I guess you're right, that both male and female bodies are beautiful, but that doesn't explain the way I feel about you. I mean, if I ask myself if there are girls I find beautiful, the answer is yes, undoubtedly. I know many attractive females: the Patil twins. Fleur Delacour. Angelina Johnson. That's four beautiful girls right there. But I have no desire to kiss any of them. You, Luna… you affect me in an entirely different way. Even though female bodies are beautiful, until recently I had never considered any females as potential partners, either romantically or…"

"Sexually."

"Right," Hermione gulped. She couldn't believe Luna had said that, or that she had concurred. "I don't know exactly what it is about you, Luna, but you seem to transcend all boundaries to me. You are a beautiful girl, but there's more to it than that. I hope I'm not coming on too strong, Luna. I don't want to scare you off."

"Do I look scared?"

"No. You look… happy. You look happy, Luna." Luna's eyes were shining, and a smile had spread across her lips, which still held slight traces of dark chocolate. She looked happy… and tasty.

"I am happy, Hermione. You make me feel happy. You don't have to worry about frightening me off. Actually, it's you that looks scared. Can you tell me what's scaring you, Hermione?"

Was she scared? Was her Gryffindor courage failing her? "I'm not sure," Hermione replied slowly. "I guess this is all so foreign to me. I don't have much experience in dating. I went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum, but that was so different." Hermione had plenty of experience in sex – at least with men – thanks to her experimentations with Remus and Sirius, but not much dating experience. All of her research had left her unprepared for this moment. Damn! How had this happened?

"In what way was it so different than this?" asked Luna.

"Well, for one thing, we knew it wouldn't last. He was going back to Durmstrang at the end of the year. And for another thing, I was able to let him take the lead – he was older, and more experienced, and seemed comfortable being sort of in charge. But with us – I'm not sure yet where things are going, or if I should take the lead because I'm older…"

Hermione lost the end of her thought because Luna kissed her again.

"What was that for?"

"I wanted to remind you about what's really important."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean – I like you, you like me: that's what's important. Everything else is just details, and the details will sort themselves out if we follow our hearts. Why does anybody need to take the lead? And besides, do you really want to know where this is going? That might spoil a really lovely surprise! I suggest we not worry about the destination – let's just enjoy the journey. All we ever need to do is take a step. And then another."

So Hermione took a step: she reached out to tuck a strand of Luna's damp hair behind her ear, then let her fingers trace the contours of her jaw as she brought her lips down on Luna's pretty mouth. Hermione's hand continued its downward stroke, fingers sweeping along the side of Luna's slender neck, knuckles grazing the hollow between her graceful collarbones, and palm finally coming to rest on the tender mound of breast that peeped from under Luna's blouse. Luna's sharp inhalation let Hermione know the contact was welcome. She hesitated just a moment, then pulled her hand away from the soft flesh.

"Hermione," Luna gasped into Hermione's lips. "Please don't stop."

"Shhhh," Hermione whispered back. "It'll be okay." Her fingers moved to Luna's shirt, unbuttoning it the rest of the way, and then sliding it off of her shoulders so that it pooled on the blanket. She pulled back from their kiss to admire Luna's alabaster skin, glistening in the moist heat of the greenhouse. Luna's breath was coming faster, her breasts rising and falling quickly inside her simple white cotton brassiere. "You're beautiful, Luna. So beautiful."

Luna reached behind herself to unhook her bra, and shrugged it off, too. Once again, Hermione marveled at how utterly unselfconscious Luna seemed about her body. "I'd asked you not to stop," Luna said, lifting Hermione's hand and replacing it on her breast. "I even said 'please,'" she teased softly, as she lay back on the picnic blanket.

Hermione followed her down, stroking the full curve of Luna's breast, and brushing the nipple with her thumb. Once again, she pressed her lips to Luna's. She soon lost herself in her experience of Luna: the warm and wet kisses, and the soft and sweet feel of Luna's breast in her hand. Luna moaned just the way she liked, and Hermione melted. When Luna's hand crept up under Hermione's skirt to caress her thigh, she wanted the moment to go on forever. How could she have been unsure after the D.A. meeting about inviting Luna upstairs?

Hermione kissed her way from Luna's lips to her small nose, across the pale arch of her eyebrow, and down to the pink shell of her ear, where she whispered huskily, "I can't believe I didn't invite you upstairs to my dorm last night. I should have, shouldn't I?"

"No," Luna breathed heavily.

No? Certainly Luna didn't mean that as an answer to her question… Did she? "No, what?"

"No," Luna repeated, still stroking Hermione's thigh, and placing small kisses along her neck, "you shouldn't have invited me upstairs last night."

"Why ever not?" Hermione was confused, and was trying not to let her feelings get hurt. Wasn't Luna sorry they hadn't started this kind of behavior any earlier?

"Because you didn't," Luna replied, maddeningly. "You didn't invite me up, because you weren't ready. So you were right to wait."

Hermione's hand had stopped moving on Luna's breast as she tried to process that logic. "That sounds like circular reasoning to me, Luna," she said, trying to keep the complaint out of her voice.

"Not at all," Luna explained patiently. "I just mean that although you didn't know what you wanted, you knew what you needed – more time. And knowing what you need is more important." She resumed her kissing of Hermione's neck, working her way up to Hermione's earlobe, and giving it a nibble.

Just give in, Hermione told herself. You can't win. Luna is always right. Wait… Luna is always right? Oh, Merlin, help me. I'm lost in some strange parallel universe where everything is topsy-turvy, and I don't want to be found.

"Of course, Luna," she said quietly. "You're absolutely right that I didn't know what I wanted last night. But I know what I want right now…"

"And that is?"

By way of answer, Hermione gently laid Luna out on the blanket, and retrieved her paper wrapper full of melted chocolate. She dipped her index finger into the dark sweetness, and began to trace a spiral pattern on Luna's other breast (Hermione was always concerned about keeping things equitable). Luna arched her back in anticipation as Hermione surrounded the pink nipple with tighter and tighter circles, until she ended in the center with a sizeable blob of chocolate. When Hermione flicked her tongue over Luna's now-chocolate-covered nipple, Luna's moans became rich and yummy. Surely Hermione was in paradise: in a warm, sticky greenhouse, with warm, sticky chocolate all over warm, sticky Luna… She had certainly died and gone to heaven; there could be no other explanation. Hermione said a silent, but fervent, thank you to Remus, as she licked and sucked her new favorite dessert.

* * *

"Oi, Granger!"

Shit! Hermione's wand was in her robe pocket, several feet away. No way to summon clothing. She quickly covered Luna with part of the picnic blanket before jumping to her feet and facing the intruder.

Make that "intruders." Fred and George were standing just inside the greenhouse door, wearing enormous grins.

Hermione stomped her foot in anger and shouted, "What the hell are you two doing here?"

"Calm down, Granger," said Fred. "We're here to help. Thought you might want to know that lunchtime is over, and your Herbology class will be here in about thirty seconds."

"We'll stall them," said George, and the twins – after one last ogle at the still-topless Luna (who had sat up in alarm, losing her picnic blanket coverage) – stepped back outside.

"Crap! Thanks, guys!" yelled Hermione, as she and Luna started throwing their clothing back on.

Hermione could hear Fred and George outdoors protecting her and Luna.

"Hello, Professor Sprout," said one (Hermione found it difficult to tell which twin was speaking when they weren't right in front of her eyes).

"What are you two doing in my greenhouse?" Professor Sprout asked, suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing important," answered a twin. "By the way, your crop of bubotubers is looking very healthy. Any chance you could let us harvest a little pus?"

"Ahhhh," the professor answered. "Somebody having a little acne trouble?"

"Yeah, it's our sister Ginny. She's getting to that age when she's starting to get some spots, and she doesn't even want to leave Gryffindor Tower because of them."

Fred and George would certainly find themselves on the receiving end of a well-placed bat-bogey hex, if Ginny ever got wind of this conversation, Hermione thought, as she gathered up the candy wrappers and empty butterbeer bottles.

"She looked fine when I saw her earlier this week," said Professor Sprout, sounding concerned about the girl.

"You know how spots can be, Professor. They popped up on her practically overnight, and now she won't show her face."

"You've got it, boys. What good big brothers you are. Take as much as you need."

"Would you do us a favor, Professor, and stall your students while we harvest the pus? We'll be as quick as we can. You've got Gryffindors this hour, don't you? I think Ginny would be embarrassed if word got out about her spots."

"Oh, of course, boys. The poor dear. Why don't you go out the back door of the greenhouse, so no one need see you? I'll introduce today's lesson out here, so that should give you about five minutes."

"You're the best, Professor!"

Hermione laughed silently at the artful way the twins had managed Professor Sprout.

The door reopened a moment later to admit Fred and George, and Hermione and Luna were dressed and ready to go. The four of them ran together out the back door, and leaned against a nearby tree, out of sight of the students grouped at the front of Greenhouse Three.

"Thanks, guys, we owe you a huge favor," said Hermione.

"No, you don't," laughed George.

"Just call us hopeless romantics," said Fred. "Young love doesn't need the kind of embarrassment you were about to experience."

"Besides," added George, "Ron would have had a heart attack if he walked into Herbology class and saw what we did. We didn't fancy having to explain it to Mum."

"I knew they were nice boys," said Luna, with a happy smile. "Well, it looks like I'm late for Charms – I'd better run!" And, after a quick peck on the lips for Hermione, she did.

George and Fred grinned at each other. "I do like Luna," said George. "She thinks we're nice boys. It's refreshing."

"I like Luna, too," said Fred. "Nice tits."

Hermione punched him lightly on the arm and called him a prat, but kissed both boys on the cheek just the same. "Thanks again," she told them. "I'd better run, too." She ran around to the front door of the greenhouse and caught up with her class just as Professor Sprout was wrapping up her introduction and opening the door.

"You're late, Miss Granger! Don't let it happen again, or it'll be detention."

"Ooh, Neville – too bad you're on time," teased Seamus.

Neville blushed, several Gryffindors laughed, and Hermione heaved a great sigh of relief as she entered with her classmates. Herbology classes would never be quite the same after today, she thought, and smiled to herself.

* * *

A/N: Almost busted by a Professor AND Hermione's classmates! A close one for the girls. Too bad about the "snoggus interruptus," eh? Hope you liked this chapter. I know some of you have written in saying you're not crazy about the HGLL pairing, and I understand it won't be everyone's cup of tea. Oh well! Can't please everyone! This chapter is for those of you who don't mind a little girl-on-girl hotness in the greenhouse. Read and review, please! I've never written any femmeslash before other than the slight hints during the girls' D.A. tickle-fight and Luna's briefest, barest goodnight kiss for Hermione afterward. How did I do? 


	25. Chapter 25: Change

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 25: Change

* * *

A/N:

_Special thanks to Uathann, for the "darkest possible chocolate banana-shaped treats." I also don't know if I thanked her properly for the "cool fanfic writer" T-shirt she gave me after Chapter 22, and cookies after Chapter 20. You do know what I like, Sweetheart!_

_Special thanks also to Felena1971 and Bmdohmen for bouncing some ideas around with me for the next couple of chapters, and for keeping me so entertained into the wee hours. ;D_

_Finally, just a note to say that I love all of my reviewers (I'm shameless!). I now have 200 reviews (thanks, Angellove727 for the 200th one!), almost 25,000 hits, 70 people subscribed to alerts for this story, and 40 who have tagged it as a favorite. Woot!_

_And now… on with the story!_

* * *

With a spare set of clothes and a toothbrush tucked into her book bag, Hermione descended the stairs to the Great Hall. She was flanked by Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and Luna, who had all insisted on seeing her off. Snape was waiting for her. As she turned to wave goodbye to her friends, Luna dashed forward to give her a hug.

"Hurry back," Luna whispered into her ear. "I understand why you have to go, but I'll miss you while you're gone."

"I'll miss you, too," Hermione whispered back, and gave the blonde a squeeze.

Harry hugged her next. "Take care, Hermione," he told her gruffly. Ron patted her on the back, looking awkward, and nodded.

Then Ginny grabbed her, saying, "You must be so worried about your grandfather, Hermione – you look like you didn't sleep a wink last night. My thoughts will be with you, and with him."

"Thanks, Ginny," she said, slightly miffed at being told she looked poorly. It was true, however, that she had not slept well the night before. When her mind wasn't obsessing over every detail of the brewing of the Wolfsbane Potion, looking for any potential mistake, it was begging her for more chocolate-covered Luna. She had eventually indulged in that fantasy, and imagined Luna's nimble fingers unleashed inside her pajama bottoms. And though her orgasm came quickly, sleep still eluded her.

Lastly, Fred and George caught her between them for a very tight three-way hug. George chuckled into one ear, "We heard about your detention fantasy, naughty girl. Thanks for tormenting Ron worse than we ever could have done!"

Fred rumbled into her other ear, "Now Ron's not sure if he's more jealous of Lupin or Luna, and still the stupid git won't even admit to himself why he's jealous at all!" Hermione looked over at Ron, who was sporting a forced smile and his trademark red ears. She almost felt sorry for him.

With a squeeze for each twin, she teased them gently, "Time to let go, boys, or he'll be adding you both to his list of suspects!"

Snape had had enough. "Come, Miss Granger. As touching as this farewell scene is, we must go…" He turned to open the door for her, adding under his breath, "…or I shall vomit spectacularly."

* * *

On their walk toward Hogsmeade, Snape was back to his characteristically grumpy self – the inscrutable Potions Master who she had always thought hated her. He strode quickly along the path, his traveling cloak billowing behind him, as Hermione struggled to keep up. Hermione missed the odd camaraderie they'd developed over the past couple of weeks. Had she offended him in some way? She longed for any sign of his dry humor, just one sarcastic comment or snide remark. But they traveled in silence toward the destiny that awaited them at the Black family residence. Once they were well out of sight of the castle, Snape suddenly stopped and offered his arm. She held tight to him through the squeezing sensation of apparation, but released him as they crossed the street to the front door of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

This time, Sirius answered the door, and led them straight to the kitchen.

"Two more for dinner, Moony," he called.

If Hermione looked like she hadn't slept a wink the previous night, Remus looked like he hadn't slept in three. His eyes had a haunted look, and he couldn't keep still. He moved around the kitchen getting extra bowls and ladling out the stew. When he brought the meal to the table, he avoided making eye contact with anyone. He didn't sit at the table with the others, but paced around the kitchen, holding his bowl, and barely eating anything.

"Is everyone ready, then?" asked Snape, in his silky tones. He pointedly ignored Remus's obvious distress.

"We're ready," answered Sirius, for both himself and Remus. "He took his potion, and we're ready."

Hermione couldn't take her eyes off of Remus, in constant motion around the kitchen. "Is the potion working? Is he always like this just before the change?" Her heart went out to him. It was hard to see him like this.

"I expect it's working just fine," answered Sirius, but he didn't sound as certain as Hermione would have liked. "He's always restless, though it seems especially bad this time. I think it's just because he's worried about you, Hermione."

"That's right," snarled Remus from the corner of the kitchen, "talk about me as if I'm not here, or as if I'm some kind of dumb beast who can't understand you."

"Remus," Hermione said softly, "I'm sorry. Please tell me how you are feeling, and what I can expect tonight. And if there's any way I can help you, either before or after the change, I want to do it. Just let me know how."

"How am I feeling?" He snarled again. "How am I feeling? I'm feeling fucking fantastic, thank you very much. I'm about to have my entire body ripped apart and remade into a fabulously popular shape, and spend the night doing Merlin-knows-what, because I can never actually remember the next morning what I did the night before. So, you know, pardon me in advance if I happen to rip any throats out – nothing personal, I assure you." He threw his bowl into the sink, having hardly eaten any of his dinner. "Is it time yet, Sirius? When do I have the pleasure of being jailed?"

Lovely, thought Hermione. Looks like I'll be spending the night with a HUNGRY werewolf. Who has a temper. Whose brilliant idea was this, again?

Sirius looked sympathetically at her, as if he had heard her thoughts. "It's going to be okay, Hermione. The anticipation of the change is almost worse than the change itself. Once it's over, he'll be a tame wolf, though still somewhat agitated at being trapped indoors."

"The anticipation is worse? As if you'd know, Sirius. As if you've had your bones breaking every month for over thirty years!"

Tears filled Hermione's eyes, and threatened to spill over.

Snape calmly consulted his pocket watch. "It's time," he announced. "The moon will be rising shortly. Did you have a particular room in mind, Black?"

"Let's use the master suite," he suggested. "It's large enough for him to roam a bit, at least."

Hermione sniffed back her tears, and tried to smile bravely. "That will be perfect, Sirius."

"Come on, love," said Sirius, taking Remus by the arm, and turning on the spot.

Snape was on his feet, and heading for the stairs. "Are you coming along, Miss Granger?" She followed him, eyes downcast. "I don't want to know why you are familiar with the master suite, do I?" he asked. She shook her head as they started to climb. At least he was talking to her again.

* * *

"I will take your wands," Snape informed the trio, as he prepared to close them into the bedroom. When Sirius glared at him, he smirked. "Well, it wouldn't be very exciting to lock you in with a werewolf if you could use your wands to escape, now would it? Where's the fun in that?"

Hermione handed her wand to the Potions Master, soon to be her jailor. Sirius grudgingly did the same. Remus growled and slammed his wand into Snape's waiting palm. Snape, to his credit, did not flinch.

The door closed, and Hermione heard Snape using the same protective spells they had used themselves on many occasions over winter break. They had been trying to keep Kreacher out. Snape was using the spells to keep the three of them in.

When she turned from the door, she was shocked (but not at all displeased) to find Remus removing the last of his clothing, and throwing it into a heap as he began to pace the floor anxiously. She turned to Sirius, who mimed the ripping of clothing, then bared his teeth and made his hands into claws. Ahhhh. Apparently Remus was tired of having his wardrobe shredded during his transformations into a wolf.

Certainly this was not the time for such observations, but she was struck again at how gorgeous Remus looked without his clothes. Long and lean. And strong – she remembered how he had lifted Sirius so easily and carried him to the bed. She admired the musculature of his torso, and the curve of his backside. When he reached the end of the room, he turned and headed back toward the door. His cock, even when not erect, was impressive, and Hermione found her mouth suddenly held far too much saliva. She swallowed, and attempted to focus instead on how she could help him to feel better.

"Remus," Hermione called softly to him, as he stalked naked around the room. "May I hold you?"

He stopped, but said nothing. She approached him cautiously, and he stood still, eyes on the carpet, until her arms were around him, and her head was tucked into his bare chest. Sirius approached slowly from behind, and wrapped his arms around his lover as well, and snuggled his face into the prematurely graying hair.

"We're here, Remus," breathed Hermione. "We're here with you, and we're not leaving you. We will take care of you all night. We both love you." She could feel and hear his heart pounding. She attempted to keep her own body relaxed, so as not to communicate any additional stress to him.

He tentatively raised one hand, and placed it on Hermione's back. With the other, he held tight to Sirius's arms. The contact did seem to calm him somewhat, and he sighed deeply. "Thank you both. I'm sorry I've been such a shit. I don't deserve you."

"Of course you deserve us, you big hairy git," teased Sirius gently. "But feel free to show us your appreciation in the morning, okay?"

Remus laughed tensely. "So after I change back, d'you think we could get back into this position? Clothing optional?"

Hermione chuckled softly into his chest. "Now there's the Remus I know and love."

They held each other for several more minutes, Hermione and Sirius making soft, soothing noises and stroking Remus tenderly.

Suddenly, his body tensed, and he cried out in pain. He flung Hermione across the room. Intent on putting as much distance as she could between herself and Remus's transformation, she scrambled into a corner. Sirius ran to her, quickly checked her for injuries, and then wrapped his arms around her protectively.

She watched in horrified fascination as Remus screamed and fell to the floor. He writhed, tortured from within, as his body changed shape, his handsome face stretching agonizingly into a long snout. Gray fur ripped out of his skin at an alarming rate, forming a shaggy coat. And then it was over – almost as quickly as it had begun. The wolf lay on the floor panting and whimpering.

Sirius morphed into Padfoot, and approached the wolf. Tail between his legs, the big black dog sniffed the wolf, nuzzled him, and licked his paws. Hermione crept over on her hands and knees. Had the potion worked? Was this a gentle wolf? She gathered her Gryffindor courage about her, and reached out to pet him.

The wolf moaned and leaned into her hand, and Hermione breathed a deep sigh of relief. The potion seemed to have worked well. She sat next to the wolf and soothed him, crooning softly, "Sweet Remus, you're okay now, the change is over. I'm still here, and so is Padfoot. We'll be right here with you all night." He lay still, allowing himself to be stroked, seemingly gathering his strength after the ordeal of the transformation.

After a few minutes the wolf struggled to his feet, and began to pace the room, moaning and whining softly, and pawing at the door. _I will have the wolfish desires to run, to roam, and to howl at the moon,_ he had told her, almost two months ago. Though the master suite did provide more space for roaming and running than any other room, it didn't really seem like it would suffice for a wolf.

Hermione crossed to the bathroom, and began to dig through the cabinets, on a mission to find something that would help her dear friend. So absorbed was she in her search that she did not see or hear Sirius, back in human form, approaching. She was bent over, peering into a low drawer under the sink, when she suddenly felt his hands on her hips. She stood quickly, alarmed, all muscles tensed, until she saw his striking features in the mirror. "Oh, Sirius," she laughed, turning in his arms to face him, "it's a good thing I don't have my wand right now. You sneak up on me like that any other time, and you might get Stupefied into next week!"

"What are you looking for, love?"

"Well, I hope you don't think this is silly, but I thought if I could find something we could use to play fetch a bit, it might help Remus burn off some of his restless energy. Do you think he'd go for it, if I can find something to throw?"

"Ahh, fetch," Sirius sighed fondly, "a great game. I'll play along for a bit, and see if that helps him get interested. I have to say, I've never thought of playing fetch with him to help him through these nights. It might work." He helped her paw through the cabinets in search of a worthy item to throw and to chase.

"How about this?" she asked, tying a hand towel into a knot. He nodded, and moments later she left the bathroom with a shaggy black dog trotting at her heels.

The game went fairly well. The wolf didn't seem to understand the rules at first, but followed Padfoot's lead, and soon they were having a great time. They played for almost an hour, until the hand towel got so saturated with dog and wolf saliva that it became too heavy for Hermione to throw well. The wolf did seem less agitated after running back and forth in the room for so long, and occasionally wrestling with Padfoot for the towel.

Encouraged by this success, Hermione crossed the room to the window, and drew back the curtains. Luckily, the moon was clearly visible from this side of the dwelling. She called to both of her canine friends, and without much hesitation, they both joined her on the window seat. Together, they felt the pull of the silvery moon, and as one, all three lifted their voices and howled with wild abandon. Hermione felt like part of the pack. It reminded her of being with Harry and Ron at school. She had never had a pack before she met them.

* * *

Hermione leaned into Sirius's (human) chest on the love seat. They had finally worn out Remus, who was already somewhat spent from the agonizing transformation, and he was now curled up at their feet, sleeping soundly.

"I'd seen it before," she said, "that night, with Peter, and Snape… But this time my experience of watching the change was entirely different."

"How so, love?" asked Sirius, absently twirling some of Hermione's curls around his fingers.

"That night, I was terrified OF him. This time, I think I was more terrified FOR him. I saw it happening to a man I love, and wishing so much I could make it stop." She reached down to stroke the wolf's long, soft ear. "I don't understand, Sirius, why his change to a wolf is so awful, but when you change into Padfoot, it looks painless."

"The difference is in the source of the change. An Animagus undergoes transfiguration. It's dangerous and difficult magic, but it isn't dark magic. But Remus has been living with a curse, Hermione, inflicted on him by a cruel and ruthless dark creature. Obviously the potion makes it worlds better than it used to be, but it's still a curse. And he gets to look forward to this experience every 28 days for the rest of his life."

Hermione sat up straighter, and turned to face Sirius, a hard look blazing in her eyes. "Well it's not right," she declared. "There must be a cure, somehow. We need to get the proper research funding and set someone to work on the project."

"You're very sweet, love, to want to save him from this. But over the centuries, many people have tried to create a cure for lycanthropy, and none have met with any luck. It appears that this particular curse is incurable."

"I refuse to accept that," she said defiantly. "I bet Professor Snape could do it, if he had the time to devote to the research. He's brilliant, you know. You should see him at work when he doesn't have a class full of students on his hands and he can become totally absorbed in what he's doing. It's like he's composing a symphony. He knows just when to add the woodwinds, for instance, and at what tempo and volume and with what kind of feeling. It really is beautiful to witness. I wonder if we could find him some funding and arrange for him to take a sabbatical so that he could focus on the problem properly…"

"Snape! You're rather taken with him, Hermione, aren't you? Tell me he's been decent with you."

She laughed, a soft laugh – so as not to wake Remus. "I suppose I am a bit taken with him. And he's been more than decent to me. It's amazing how different he has been when we are alone together. He's a patient teacher, considerate, even sometimes funny. He's still sarcastic as hell, but somehow it's more charming."

"I've never seen that side of him, Hermione, and I've known him since before you were born. He's always got ulterior motives, you know – it's a Slytherin trait."

"Sirius, really," she admonished him, "you both promised you would do your best to be civil to each other. Please try not to be so suspicious of him. He hasn't done anything inappropriate, though he's had ample opportunity. We've actually started to tease each other a little – he can be almost playful. I think we have some sort of innocent flirtation going. I like it."

Sirius groaned. "Please don't tell me that. Look, maybe we should stop talking about Snape. You're giving me the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps he and I are actually alike in some ways, and if that's true I might just have to kill myself."

"What do you mean, that you're alike?" Hermione tried to find any commonalities, and besides the fact that they were both black-haired males of the same age, she wasn't coming up with much.

"In our tastes in people, I mean. I think he used to have a crush on Remus when we were in school together, but Remus is mine. And now he's warming up to you, and of course I adore you."

"You think Severus had a crush on Remus?" Hermione's brain tried to wrap itself around that new bit of information. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You're on a first name basis with him? It's 'Severus' now?" Sirius looked horrorstruck.

"No," said Hermione, trying not to laugh. "He'd probably string me up by my toenails if he heard me say that! No, even though I do feel we've gotten much closer, we're still very formal around each other. No first names. He is still 'Sir' or 'Professor,' and I am still 'Miss Granger.' But it's hard to think of him as 'Professor Snape' if we're talking about him as a boy. So – what makes you think he liked Remus?"

"It's that same ugly story, Hermione – the night that I let everyone down, including… including myself. Snape had been paying lots of attention to Remus, enough to notice that he was gone fairly regularly, and to wonder about where he was going. Why else would he be paying that much attention to Remus, Hermione, if he didn't have feelings for him?"

Hermione was a smart witch, and everything suddenly became much more clear to her. "Oh, Sirius, you weren't acting merely out of spite when you sent him down that tunnel, you were acting out of jealousy!"

"Yeah, I believe now that I was jealous. I didn't want him sniffing around my Moony. Even though we weren't a couple yet, he was still very important to me. I was possessive. But jealousy is no better a reason for what I did than spite would have been. There's no way around it – it was a horrible thing I did to him, and to Remus. I can't begin to make you understand how bad I feel about that night. It still haunts me."

"I know, Sirius. That's why I said I wanted you to forgive him, but maybe more importantly you need to forgive yourself. You made an awful choice, but the disastrous consequences were avoided. You've grown up since then. You've changed. You would never do something like that now. So it's time to let it go."

"I'm not sure if I can forgive myself, Hermione. And now that Snape is in the Order, and I have to work with him… I get so angry when I see him. I'm angry with myself, and then I'm angry with him for making me feel that way… I just want to explode every time he's around!"

"Shhhh," she said, gesturing toward the wolf sleeping at their feet. "Sirius, I honestly think Snape won't do anything to get revenge on you. He gets his revenge every time he sees you – his very existence torments you. But you give him that power over you by refusing to forgive yourself. If you could find a way to come to terms with what happened, you would probably find that it's not so horrible to be around him."

"I don't know, Hermione. I have so many guilty feelings sometimes I don't know how I can live with myself. I could have cost Snape his life, and Remus his sanity. And I did cost James and Lily their lives, and Harry his parents, because I stupidly convinced Peter to be the secret-keeper instead of keeping it myself. And yet… Remus loves me. Harry loves me. They should both hate me, but they love me. Why?"

The question was not rhetorical. Hermione could see that Sirius desperately needed an answer to that question. If only she were more like Luna, she could probably find just the right thing to say that would help Sirius feel better. Alas, she would have to rely on her own wisdom, flawed as it might be. She could only be herself, and give Sirius the best that she had to offer.

"Forgiveness, love," she replied. She looked into his troubled gray eyes, and held his gaze. "They know you are just a man, flawed, but beautiful. Passionate, but imperfect. They do see your mistakes, Sirius, but they see more than that. They see you as the whole man that you are – your love, your pain, your loyalty, your rebellion, your passion and your impetuousness, everything. They forgive you for your mistakes, and they love you. The greatest gift you could give them would be to forgive yourself as well, so that you could accept their love more fully."

This time, it was Sirius's eyes that filled with tears. He pulled Hermione into his chest, and hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head. "Thank you," he whispered huskily into her hair. She pulled back to give him an encouraging smile, but instead of returning it, he drew her toward him for a kiss. His lips parted, and his tongue sought entrance into her mouth. She allowed it, but stiffened involuntarily. He felt it, and backed off. "What is it, love? Has something changed?"

She looked down at the upholstery, and nodded.

"Oh, no," he sighed. "Moony's prediction came true. You fell in love with some bloke at school and now you're forgetting all about us."

When Hermione looked up, she was grinning widely. "Wrong on both counts, darling. One, I have not forgotten you. I think about you both all the time. I'm probably going to fail my Defense class because I spend the whole hour remembering our nights together, instead of paying attention. And two, I have NOT fallen in love with some bloke at school. But I have been having a very interesting time with a pretty little witch in Ginny's year. A Ravenclaw."

"A girl! Hermione, I would never have imagined it. You so obviously love the male form – I mean, you practically worshipped our cocks. Not, of course, that they don't deserve worship… But, a girl?"

"I know," she chuckled. "It's crazy, isn't it? I don't know, Sirius, she just does something to me."

"Sounds hot," teased Sirius. "Tell me all about her. She must be something really special."

Hermione sat up straight, and almost bounced on the loveseat in excitement. "Her name is Luna, like the moon goddess. She's beautiful, pale, mysterious… Her eyes are this unbelievable silvery color, like the moon itself. And she's not flashy, like the sun – she's gentle and soft like a moonbeam. She's absolutely serene. Do you know, when I hit her over and over with the leg-locker curse, she didn't even wobble? She's just like that – totally centered and calm… And so perceptive, Sirius. It's like she can see right through me. It's unnerving, but exhilarating. We have a date to go into Hogsmeade together… for Valentine's Day."

Sirius chuckled appreciatively. "So, our little Sex Kitten has found herself a playmate. Well, if you're not going to kiss me, at least give an old dog some vicarious thrills. Have you kissed her?"

She blushed, but grinned again, nodding.

"Have you kissed her anywhere besides her mouth?"

Hermione bounced on the loveseat some more. "I have. And I'll have to thank Remus in the morning."

"What's Moony got to do with you kissing your pale, beautiful goddess?"

"I accidentally melted some of his fine Belgian chocolates, and… well, they made a delicious topping."

"Oh, Merlin," Sirius groaned, "enough. Any more of this kind of talk and I'll be in big trouble, love."

"Very big, sweetheart – I remember clearly."

"Cruel, love, cruel."

"Sorry. Think we ought to get a little sleep?"

"Sure. I'm hoping you forgot to pack pajamas."

She ignored the pajama issue, and changed the subject. "What do we do with Remus? I don't want him waking up alone, and us in the bed without him."

"Want to snuggle here by the fire, again? I could pull over some blankets and pillows for us, and we could curl up here with him."

"That's perfect, Sirius. You're an angel."

"Damn," he muttered, as he began to strip the bed of its softest layers.

"What is it, love?"

He spread the duvet on the floor, and gave her a wink. "Angelic is NOT what I'm going for, sweetheart."

* * *

A/N: Urgh… This one was hard to write. It's a bit angstier than I usually get. Remus all anxious with the full moon, Sirius all serious about Snape, James, Lily, Remus, and Harry… Jesus, I almost made Sirius cry! Can you stand it??? I promise the next chapter will have more sexiness and probably a bit of kink, and less angst. I did at least throw in a little gratuitous naked Remus for you. Well, no. Actually I did that for ME. ;D 


	26. Chapter 26: Desire

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

**Further Disclaimer:** Slip 'n Slide™, by Wham-O Corporation, is a muggle toy that involves water flowing over plastic sheeting so that children can slide around in their swimsuits on a hot summer day. The views expressed in this fanfic are not necessarily the views of the Wham-O Corporation and no endorsement is either expressed or implied.

* * *

Chapter 26: Desire 

_A/N: Special thanks to __**Uathann**__ for the "small plushie rabbit and a handful of various chocolate sweets along with a cup of excellent coffee/tea according to author's preference" and to __**Broadwaybaby529**__ for the cupcakes. (Who knew writing fan-fiction could be so delicious?)_

_**WARNING**__: This is the chapter so many of you have been begging me for… but I must warn any of my readers with more delicate sensibilities. While the language isn't as crude as it was in the first broom-cupboard chapter, this chapter is, I think, more graphic than that one. If that sort of thing bothers you, just scroll past the first half of this chapter to the little divider-line thingy that signals a change of scene._

_And now: on with the story! When we last left Hermione, she & Sirius were about to bed down on the duvet near the fireplace with a sleeping werewolf…_

* * *

In the space between sleeping and waking, Hermione became distantly aware of a large hand cupping her right breast, and a growing hardness pressing into the cleft of her backside. She moaned softly as the happy almost-thought swam into her subconscious: another dream about Remus. A vivid one, too – she could even feel his body heat cradling her from behind, and his warm breath on her neck. She frequently dreamed of Remus, only to wake up in her four-poster alone, and as wet as a human Slip 'n Slide™. 

When the dream-hand began to knead and stroke her through her t-shirt, she moaned more audibly. Her consciousness bobbed gently toward the surface, but Hermione didn't want to wake up yet: not in the middle of such a pleasant – and realistic – dream. She snuggled more deeply into the fantasy, and a small smile spread across her lips as the dream-hand obligingly moved south, down her belly, and toward her lacy knickers. She rolled sleepily onto her back, adrift on the sensations, every reflex in her body desiring more.

And then, suddenly, lips on her lips, scratchiness on her cheeks and chin, and hair tickling her nose, and Hermione was awake, but disoriented. She opened her eyes to find that dream-Remus was real – he was kissing her, and his hand was sliding into her knickers. He found her slick and ready, and she gasped as his fingers grazed her clitoris.

"Mmmm, Hermione," he growled hungrily, "come here and let's make it a good morning."

Sunlight streamed in through the window, where they had left the curtains pulled open after they had howled at the moon together. Hermione turned to face Remus, fully and gorgeously human again and gilded in the slanting rays of dawn. He pulled her knickers down and off, and tossed them aside as he pulled her to him. His erection was pressing hard now against her curls and her pubic bone and into the softer flesh of her belly. He captured her lips again in a voracious kiss, scratching her again with the stubble on his chin.

On Hermione's other side, Sirius removed her soaking knickers from his face, where they had landed after Remus's random (or was it?) toss. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and snuggled up to her back. He slid a hand up under her Sex Kitten t-shirt and gave each nipple a playful tweak, as he pressed his pelvis into hers, his erection now nestled increasingly firmly between her bare buttocks. He nuzzled her neck, and breathed happily into her ear, "Ohhh, thank Merlin you have come to your senses and decided to play with us this morning."

No!

No, no, no! He had to say it, didn't he, and ruin everything? If only Sirius had been silent, Hermione could have kept her conscience at bay, kept thoughts of Luna for later, and continued to experience the bliss of the moment. If only Sirius had been silent, Remus wouldn't have stopped kissing her, looked over her head at Sirius, and asked, "What do you mean, Padfoot?" And if only Sirius had been silent, Remus wouldn't be questioning her with his beautiful amber eyes, and noticing that she had gone to sleep in her t-shirt and knickers instead of naked, and wondering what it all meant.

Sirius, oblivious to Hermione's distress and Remus's confusion, chuckled softly into Hermione's hair. "Our darling girl has been doing a bit more experimentation since she was here with us, Moony. Wait 'til you hear!"

Remus's face fell, and Hermione's face reddened, and they looked at each other in silence.

"A girl, Moony! She's been kissing a girl, and more. Can you believe it? I mean, the way she took to sex with us, I thought she was as straight as they come!" He laughed again.

"Is this true, Hermione?" Remus asked her gently. "Kissing and more? I mean, I know I've got no right to be jealous. We had said it was over at the end of the holiday, and I do want you to be happy at school, but… It just feels weird to know that you're not ours anymore."

"It is true," she told him. "But a part of me will always belong to you both."

"Which part can I have?" teased Sirius, still caressing her left breast. "How about this one?"

Hermione and Remus ignored him. "But last night you told Sirius that you didn't want to be with us anymore?" His eyes still bored into hers, seeking answers.

"Not exactly," she admitted, recalling her confession to Sirius. "He was sad, and I comforted him, and he kissed me, and… I sort of froze up for a moment. I didn't mean to, but it just happened. Then he asked if something had changed, and I told him about Luna. That's her name – Luna Lovegood. He assumed I didn't want to kiss him anymore, so he asked me instead to tell him about kissing Luna. I let him make the assumption because it was so much easier than having to decide what was right and what was wrong. In all honesty, I'm confused and conflicted. I love you and Sirius so much, and I want you both so desperately right now. And Luna and I have not made any promises to each other about exclusivity. But I really do like her and I don't want to mess things up with her before they even really get started…"

"Luna Lovegood…" Remus searched his memory, and found what he was seeking. "I do remember her. Pretty blonde second-year, bit spacey and weird, but a good student? Ravenclaw, right?"

"Yeah," admitted Hermione, certain now that the morning's pleasures were over, now that the conversation had turned to Luna. Well, Sirius still seemed game, but Remus was obviously distracted from what had been so promising a start. Hermione still didn't know what her obligations to Luna might be, but her body was crying out for her men. She sighed deeply, and continued, "She's now a very pretty fourth-year, and yes, a Ravenclaw. She does come across as spacey, but don't ever be fooled by it. She's really extremely smart and very tuned in to what's going on around her. And you could call her weird, but I prefer to think of her as… colorful and surprising. There's a lot more to Luna than meets the eye, and I've been having lots of fun discovering what's beneath the surface." Despite Hermione's deepest wish that she could use her old time-turner to go back five minutes and stuff those knickers into Sirius's mouth before he could say anything, she found that she was glowing as she told Remus about Luna.

"Oh, Hermione! You said you wanted to thank Moony this morning! Remember?"

"Thank me? What on earth for? I should be thanking you, sweetheart - you obviously did a brilliant job with my potion, and we're all still in one piece to tell the tale. I can't tell you how relieved I was to find you and Sirius slumbering peacefully next to me this morning."

"Relieved, Moony?" teased Sirius. "I think you mean 'horny.' That's the best thing about full moons, Hermione - Remus always wakes up the next morning craving sex and chocolate. A wonderful combination, I know you'll agree."

She grinned, remembering the night of chocolate, whipped cream, and honey: the very first night she had been in this room. "Of course I agree - that was one of my very favorite nights we shared. And Remus, that's actually what I wanted to thank you for: sex and chocolate. Those Belgian chocolates you gave me were instrumental in getting Luna to kiss me, and… and more. We had a picnic in the greenhouse for lunch yesterday, and I brought some of them for dessert. They got all melted in the heat, but it didn't stop her at all. She licked the chocolate off the paper…"

"I like her already," chuckled Remus, "but go on."

"Oh, Remus, it was so erotic just watching her lick that paper. I wanted to be the paper – and eventually I told her so." She felt Sirius's cock twitch behind her. He was obviously enjoying the story.

"What did she say?" asked Remus, breathlessly.

"She didn't say anything. She put some chocolate on her finger, and wiped it onto my lips, and let me suck her finger clean. And then she licked the chocolate off my lips and we wound up snogging."

"My kind of girl," Remus sighed, as his cock stiffened again.

"Tell us the rest, Hermione," pleaded Sirius. "You just gave me a hint last night, and I want details."

"Well, let's see… I had been a little freaked out that I was so attracted to a girl, but I finally decided to just go with the flow. So when she told me it was okay if I don't know what I want, I told her that in fact, I do know what I want, and…"

"Yes?" both men prompted her eagerly.

"So I finger-painted some of the melted chocolate onto her breast, with a nice glob right on her nipple, and I licked and sucked it all off…." Hermione's voice drifted off as she reminisced.

"And then what happened?" asked Remus, who now had his hand around his throbbing member and was stroking slowly up and down.

"And then we were interrupted. Fred and George Weasley came in to tell us that lunch was over, and my class would be there soon. They stalled Professor Sprout and gave us time to get dressed and gather our things, and then we escaped out the back door. I feel confident in saying that we were both left wanting more. We have a date for Valentine's Day on Saturday, but we'll be in public the whole time at Hogsmeade."

"Let me tell you a secret," chuckled Sirius. "Hogsmeade weekends are great times to get in a shag. Most everybody old enough will be in town, so the dormitories are usually deserted. Just come back a bit earlier than everyone else, and you'll be able to get to all those other things you want to do to each other."

"Really? Is that true?" Hermione's mind swam… It would all depend on Rita and Harry, and how long their interview might last. She said a silent prayer that Harry would be in one of his more succinct moods.

"It is true," confirmed Remus. "So… tell me more."

"That's it, Remus. That's the whole story so far. There's nothing else to tell."

Remus pulled her close again, and lifted her t-shirt out of the way so he could lower his head to her chest. "Tell me, Hermione," he growled, and his breath tickled her sensitive flesh, "what else you want to do with Luna. Do you want her to do this?" And he swirled around her nipple with his tongue, then took it gently between his teeth and gave a little tug.

"Oh, yes," she moaned, "I do want that; I do, I do."

Sirius laughed merrily and decided to get in on this new game. He pulled off Hermione's shirt and tossed it over his shoulder. He ran his hands down her sides, almost tickling her, and slid his tongue down her backbone, making her shiver with delight. "Do you want her to do this, Hermione?

"Yes, yes, I do!" she cried.

"And how about this?" asked Remus, with a naughty tone in his voice, as he licked his way down her belly and circled her navel, his hands stilling her hips, which bucked involuntarily.

"Ohhhhhh," she moaned.

"That sounded like a yes to me, Moony," chuckled Sirius, as he maneuvered so that he could trace the curves of her arse with his tongue, and part her legs with his hands. "And this, Hermione? Would you want Luna to do this to you?"

"Sweet Mother of Merlin, you're killing me!"

Remus lifted her left leg and raised it over his shoulder as he brought his mouth down further. He parted her damp curls with one hand, grazing her clit again, and then flicking it with his tongue. "I know you wouldn't want her to do this, though, would you?" he teased.

"Please, please," she cried, "I would, I do!"

Sirius slid a finger into her waiting heat. "I don't know, Hermione, it might be a bit too much if she were to do this…"

"No, no, no… not too much… not too much… more!"

He obliged her by adding another finger and sliding slowly in and out, her juices running down his hand.

"Oh, yes," Hermione whimpered. "That's soooo good."

"Yes, but it could be better, Hermione," suggested Remus, his voice thick with lust.

"Yes, Remus, yes," she begged him, "please, please, make it better."

"Well, would it be better if she did this, too?" And he planted his mouth between her legs, and licked and sucked greedily, licking her juices off of Sirius's fingers as they withdrew, and sucking her clit hungrily as Sirius's fingers pumped back in.

The next sound Hermione made was something impossible to transcribe, though its meaning was completely clear. Her inner walls clamped down hard on Sirius's fingers and she grabbed fistfuls of Remus's hair. When she came, it was glorious, and Sirius and Remus rode it out, fingers still stroking slowly, tongue still licking and flicking, so that her orgasm was stretched out for what seemed like forever.

When finally they were still, and the aftershocks had stopped quaking her lithe frame, Remus repositioned himself so that he and Hermione were face to face again. "Well, it seems as though one lucky Ravenclaw has much to look forward to when you return to school."

Hermione kissed him, and tasted herself on his face. "There are a few things that I won't be able to do with Luna that I really do enjoy," she told him, a sly look on her face. "Unfortunately, without my wand to perform the Contraceptive Charm, I am somewhat limited this morning."

"No worries," laughed Sirius. "You're covered. When I saw that Snape wanted to take our wands, I cast a quick charm on you before I handed mine over. I wasn't going to let that greasy git ruin all our fun!"

"Sirius!" exclaimed Hermione. "You're supposed to be nicer to Professor Snape now, remember? If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here right now at all, so we actually owe him gratitude for any fun we're having together. And by the way, casting that charm on me was very presumptuous of you… but resourceful, I'll admit. So I guess I am not so limited after all! Perhaps the two of you would be so kind as to help me out?"

"Love to, darling," said Remus, "if you think it wouldn't create any problems for you with Luna."

"Remus, my love, if there would be any problems, I think they'd have already been created. But actually, the more I think of her this morning, the more I think she would tell me to follow my heart, and to get what I need. And my darlings, right now, that means you."

Sirius and Remus grinned at each other. "You've got it, love," said Sirius, with a wink.

"Anything for you, Hermione," said Remus, giving her a squeeze.

* * *

The sun was considerably higher in the sky by the time Severus Snape released the locking spells, and banged open the door to the master suite. 

The trio was dressed, and sitting around the hearth laughing together as Hermione related the story of how she had managed to process the film from their photo shoot, and at what cost. (Colin Creevey was still friendlier than was strictly necessary, though he had backed off somewhat after Hermione's wet wrestling match with Luna during their most recent D.A. meeting.)

Snape stood imposingly in the doorway, watching them for a moment before speaking. "Alas, Miss Granger, your potion must have been adequate as everyone survived the night. I suppose I must continue to grade your puerile essays for the time being." He returned the three wands to their owners. "I suggest you pack up your things so I can return you to Hogwarts. You are already missing classes."

"Wait, Sniv- I mean, Severus. Can't we all have breakfast together before you take her away?" Sirius tried his best to put on a neutral expression instead of the scowl he usually wore in Snape's presence.

"Yes, I had hoped that at least Remus would have had a meal overnight, but as it appears that none of you has breakfasted, I suppose we can take a detour through your kitchen."

"Thank you for the offer, Sirius," said Hermione pointedly, looking at Snape.

"Yes, thank you," Snape muttered. Hermione beamed at them both proudly.

* * *

Minutes later, all four were in the kitchen, breakfasting on sausages, scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee. 

"Moony, you don't seem quite as sore this morning as you usually do after the full moon," remarked Sirius.

"I do feel more comfortable than usual. Better than I have in quite some time, actually. You didn't make any changes to the potion, did you, Severus?"

"No. It's the same as always. Any variation would have been unintentional, and due only to Miss Granger's inexperience in brewing it."

"Maybe it's because you got some exercise last night playing Fetch, instead of just pacing and whining," suggested Sirius.

"I played WHAT?"

Snape attempted to hide his snicker behind his cup of coffee.

"My idea, Remus," admitted Hermione. "I just wanted to help you burn off some of your excess energy. It seemed to work pretty well: you looked like you were enjoying it, and then you fell into a pretty deep sleep afterward."

Remus blushed, but then smiled. "Much as I dislike the idea of you treating me like your pet retriever, it seems the desired result was achieved, Hermione. Thank you for your compassion and creativity."

Hermione was thrilled. Everything was working out even better than she had hoped. The potion had worked beautifully, Remus felt well, Sirius and Snape were being civil, and she had had three screaming orgasms in fairly quick succession. It had been a great morning, and she was feeling saucy.

Snape stuffed a final bite of egg into his mouth, as he rolled his eyes at his tablemates. Then he dabbed meticulously at the corners of his mouth with a napkin, and turned to Hermione. "It is time for me to take you back to school, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione replied. "Please do take me." She winked at him, and for the slightest moment he looked taken aback.

"Goodbye, Remus," she said, and she gave him a long, lingering kiss, full on the mouth. "Goodbye, Sirius," she said, and gave him the same. "I'll miss you both. Take care of each other. And yes, I'll do my best to take care of Harry for you."

Snape paled slightly during the goodbye kisses, but recovered his signature cool quickly. "Miss Granger, you are wasting my time. I warned you about that. Perhaps you require more time in detention?"

"Perhaps I do, Professor," she said cheekily, as she gathered her coat and her bag. "Why don't we discuss it on the way home?"

"There will be no discussion. It is up to me to decide how to discipline you, if discipline is needed." He gave her a dastardly eyebrow wiggle, and she grinned widely.

Snape turned to Remus and Sirius, who watched this interchange between professor and student with their mouths agape. "Honestly," he said, completely straight-faced, "I don't see how you two could put up with her all night without shoving something into her mouth to shut her up."

Hermione burst out laughing, the corners of Snape's mouth twitched slightly, and Remus and Sirius just looked at each other in shock.

Snape offered his arm, and Hermione took it. They strolled out of Headquarters, and apparated to the Shrieking Shack.

* * *

A/N:_Also – if you haven't found it yet, be sure to read my new one-shot "HBM" – a Marauder's era Sirius/Remus funny/sexy/fluffy story written in honor of Remus's birthday (March 10). I co-wrote it with Felena1971, who has been a font of inspiration as well as my unofficial beta reader for the past couple of chapters. __**So AFTER, of course, you read & review this chapter, please celebrate Remus's big day by reading "HBM." (id 4122758)**_

_Felena1971 also wrote her own Remus birthday fic, "Whatever the Birthday Boy Wishes" (id 4124700). It's chocolatey and delicious, and features Sirius in silky boxers and Remus in silky pajama pants… Mmmmmm…._


	27. Chapter 27: Shadows

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 27: Shadows

_A/N: Thanks to Broadwaybaby529 for the pie, and Uathann for the flowers, OJ, and chanteuse. _

_Welcome to several new readers (who I think may have found this story because they stumbled on "HBM") many of whom have pulled marathon reading sessions to catch up. You deserve medals, my darlings! Ooh, such stamina…_

_Back to the story… In case you don't remember, Snape had just told Sirius & Remus, "Honestly, I don't see how you two could put up with her all night without shoving something into her mouth to shut her up."_

* * *

Hermione burst out laughing once they had arrived in the dusty old shack. "Did you see their faces? You played that perfectly, Professor!" 

"Miss Granger," he mock-scolded her, "you are a very naughty girl."

"Dear me, Professor" she teased, "I take it discipline is needed after all. I hope you won't have to take me over your knee!"

"Tempting as that might be, Miss Granger, I think I shall instead have to string you up by your toenails."

Clunk, clunk, clunk… everything started to fall into place for Hermione. Snape must have heard her talking with Sirius: '_You're on a first name basis with him?' 'No, he'd probably string me up by my toenails if he heard me say that!' _He must have been listening in to make sure she was safe, just in case her potion failed…

"So you didn't switch the potions! That really WAS my potion you gave him! I was sure you were going to switch the potions, because you wouldn't really risk my life."

"Indeed. Though I can't imagine what would make you so sure that I wouldn't risk your life. In fact, I had originally planned to switch the bottles, just to be on the safe side, but I quickly realized that would be counterproductive. We needed to be sure that you are able to brew the potion successfully yourself, should something ever happen to keep me from brewing it. It had to be your potion he drank."

"So you gave him my potion, but you stuck around… all night… and listened to make sure we were safe! But how did you…" She stepped closer to him, and inhaled deeply. She smelled eggs, sausage, toast, coffee, and a musky, masculine odor. "I was in there all night with two canines who have acute senses of smell. How did you stay close enough without them smelling you?"

"A simple enough spell, Miss Granger: Evanescaroma will make any odor disappear. Most wizards discount the importance of the sense of smell, so that spell is generally omitted from textbooks. As a Potions Master, I have a great respect for the sense of smell: it is an essential tool in evaluating potion ingredients and assessing one's results. I make frequent use of the Evanescaroma spell when brewing particularly odiferous potions, so that I do not take my work home with me, so to speak. It is a very useful spell that has currently fallen out of favor, mostly because some wizards have used it for ignoble purposes: philandering husbands who wish to remove the telltale scents of their mistresses, heavy drinkers trying to hide their addictions… I used it last night to evade the keen noses of the dog and the wolf."

"How much did you hear, Professor?"

"More than enough, Miss Granger. I had to be sure that the potency of the potion you brewed was enough to last until dawn, so I was forced to listen all night."

"But you stopped listening, right? As soon as the sun came up?" Hermione flashed back to what Snape could have heard if he were listening much past dawn. The details of her lunch date with Luna. Her moans and cries as Sirius and Remus together brought her to her first orgasm of the morning. Her lustful groans as she later rode Remus to the second, and… oh, no… that moment when she had begged Sirius, who had treated her to an energetic doggie-style screw, to flip her over so she could feel his balls slapping against her arse as he pumped deeply into her – Merlin, she loved that… His grunts as he achieved maximum penetration, her right leg over his shoulder to get the best angle, until she loosed an animalistic cry as she came for the third time. Her face burned crimson.

"Miss Granger, I suggest we drop this awkward topic of conversation. Our school awaits us." He scanned the area around the Shack, and, finding it empty, grabbed her hand and pulled her out to the main road. They began their walk back to Hogwarts, Snape leading the way again, and Hermione trailing behind, her mind still reeling.

Hermione, however, was unable to let the topic drop, as she needed to determine exactly how humiliated she should be. She jogged to catch up with him, and pressed the issue again. "So you just sat outside the room, and listened until dawn. And then you… well, what did you do until you came to set us free?"

"Miss Granger, you have jumped to conclusions. You are being intellectually sloppy."

"What have I concluded that is wrong, Sir?" No one accused Hermione Granger of being intellectually sloppy! She reviewed the evidence, and still could not find her mistake. Now she was embarrassed AND frustrated! And the day had started off so well. What a hideous development. "Please, Professor, you must tell me!"

"Miss Granger, it is not your place to tell me what I must or must not do. Do not expect me to do your work for you. You want to be treated like an adult, then act like one: when you make an error, you must find it yourself and correct it on your own."

"But Sir, I don't see where I could have –"

Suddenly he stopped and turned to her, and – as she had been following him rather closely – she ran smack into him again, as she had done the night they had both been Disillusioned, and she had been drawn along by his invisible arm. Merlin, that Disillusionment charm is spooky, she thought to herself. And then, just as he began to speak, it dawned on her.

"Stop hounding me, Miss Granger, you – "

"Merlin's Pants!" she cried, "You weren't outside the door at all! You were INSIDE THE ROOM! You'd Disillusioned yourself, and Evanescaroma'd yourself, and you must have Silencio'd yourself, and you were in there ALL NIGHT! You must have sneaked in while he was transforming, because you knew we wouldn't notice anything right then. But when did you leave, Severus? WHEN DID YOU LEAVE?"

"You will call me 'Sir' or 'Professor,' Miss Granger!"

"If you saw what I think you saw, then I believe I can call you by your given name! Try and tell me our relationship is not intimate enough for first names now – just try it!"

"You are out of line, Miss Granger!"

"No, Severus, you are out of line! You had no right to hide yourself in that room like that! And you said my friends are perverts! You probably totally got off on seeing…" She paused, as an even more hideous thought crossed her mind. "Oh shit. When I smelled you just then. I smelled breakfast and… semen. You were watching and you were jerking off." She turned pale and felt slightly nauseated, as if she might faint.

"Hermione…" He put an arm around her waist to steady her.

"Ah," she said weakly, letting his strong arm support her, "so you admit that using formal names for each other would be hypocritical at this juncture?"

"Hermione," he said quietly, still holding her close. "It's not exactly what you think."

"Then tell me, Severus. Tell me what I am supposed to think."

"I did hide myself in the room, but I assure you, it was not with voyeuristic intent. I needed to be sure I could save you if something were to go wrong."

Hermione, recovered from her near-faint, pushed away from him to stand with her arms crossed firmly across her chest, and her eyes flashing with anger.

"Yes, yes," continued Snape, irritably, "I would have saved Black, too, not that he deserves it. And what a tedious night it was, for the most part. Yes, I heard Black confessing his guilt and pain, and I thought I might vomit. Yes, I heard the sickening news of your sexual experimentations with Miss Lovegood. The only interesting part of the conversation was when you told Black about us – your assurances that I have been a gentleman when we have been alone, your confidence in my artistry in the potions lab, and this… what did you call it? – 'innocent flirtation' we have between us. I believe you even called me 'brilliant' and 'charming.' Miss Granger, for once, we were in complete agreement about something."

"Hmph. You are brilliant, and you are capable of charm. In fact, you are trying to distract me with it right now. But it won't work: I am quite angry with you at the moment. You'd better keep explaining yourself, and see if you can find any reason why I should excuse your behavior."

"You are unrelenting, Miss Granger. I told you, it would be far better to drop this line of questioning."

She tapped her foot impatiently, still glaring at him.

"Fine. But remember that I tried to get you to drop it, for your own good."

"Quit stalling, Severus. I'll decide what's in my own best interest, thank you very much."

"Stubborn, impudent witch," he muttered under his breath. "When you and Black settled on the floor with the wolf, I moved to the bed and slept as well. If the wolf woke in an unsafe frame of mind, his snarls would have awakened me immediately, and I would have been well placed to rescue you. I had fully intended to slip out at dawn, once all possibility of danger had passed, and then release you all from the room. Unfortunately, I hadn't counted on the damned werewolf waking up so bloody randy…."

A light pink stain appeared on his pale cheekbones, and he turned away from her again. He began to walk toward the castle.

"Severus," she said, catching him by the hand and stopping him again. "When did you leave?"

"As soon as I knew what was going on, I averted my eyes." He kept his face turned away from her as he spoke, his eyes focused down the path toward Hogwarts. His voice was low and soft. "Trust me, it was bad enough to have to hear, until I could make my escape. I did not want to see you sexually involved with a man I have hated, and a man I might have loved."

"Then Sirius was right. You were interested in Remus so long ago."

He spun to face her again, his expression ugly. "That is neither here nor there, as the only thing that ever came of that childish infatuation was an unsuccessful murder plot by the other of your lovers."

"So you heard, but you didn't see. Severus, please tell me when you left the room."

His eyes met hers, and they were filled with pain, though his voice was steady. "I turned away. I trained my eyes in the opposite direction, away from the three of you on the floor. You were so involved with each other I could have slipped out then, but… I found I couldn't move. The sunlight coming in from behind you cast shadows on the wall in front of me. I lay on the bed, watching your silhouettes and listening to your cries of pleasure. It was more than any man should have to take."

"You could have closed your eyes, Severus! You should have closed them!"

"A brilliant idea, Miss Granger," he spat, the moment of vulnerability gone as quickly as it had appeared. "Why did that not occur to me? Of course I closed my eyes! And then someone, usually you, would make another blood-curdling noise, and my eyelids would fly open of their own accord. Merlin, woman! Why is it that you are as incapable of keeping your mouth shut during sex as you are in my classroom?"

Silence grew between them for a long moment, and then… Hermione began to laugh. She laughed so hard she had to sit down, right there in the middle of the path, because her legs would no longer hold her. Severus watched her in astonishment, but her mirth was contagious, and before long he was roaring with laughter as well.

When she was finally able to stand, she wiped the tears from her eyes and faced him again. "Well, this certainly changes things between us, Severus. Just as you may not be able to shake the images of those shadows and the sounds you heard, I am not sure I will be able to shake the image of you on that bed, trying not to respond to those shadows and sounds."

They resumed their walk toward the castle, Severus now walking at a more measured pace, so that she could keep up. Occasionally, another chuckle would escape from one or the other of them.

"If it helps, Severus, I can empathize with your situation to some degree."

"Miss Granger, you may call me by my given name when we are alone together, working on the potion each month. But in public you will continue to call me 'Sir' or 'Professor.' I suggest you get yourself back in that habit, as we will shortly be back among our peers."

"Yes, Sir. Do you want to hear my story, or not?"

"I suppose you will tell me the story whether I want to hear it or not, as you are so fond of hearing yourself talk," he sighed. "Get on with it, then."

"One night just before Christmas, I was unable to sleep, and I tiptoed down to the kitchen at Grimmauld Place for some warm milk, but happened upon two people in a compromising position. They didn't see me – the kitchen door was only slightly ajar, and I had stopped just outside. I knew I shouldn't be there, and willed myself to leave and return to my room, but like you, I found myself incapable of motion. And then one of them made a noise that made me weak in the knees, and I stumbled into the door and was discovered. As you might imagine, things were quite awkward the next morning, but after we talked about it, things got better. In fact, we are now wonderful friends who care deeply for one another."

"Miss Granger, I am quite certain I know which two people you mean, and I would say that you are more than 'wonderful friends,' based on the evidence from this morning. But yes, I can see the similarities in the events." They walked in silence for a moment. Then, "The kitchen, you say. How disgusting. We eat in there. I shall have to insist that future Order meetings are held in the library."

"Sir, I'm not sure the library would be much safer. In fact, I'm hard pressed to think of a room – "

"Enough, Miss Granger! You really do talk too much. A bit of restraint would become you."

"Of course, Sir. You are absolutely right, as always. However, if the restraints are going to be leather, I respectfully request they be fur-lined as well. I do tend to chafe."

"Say that again, Miss Granger. I want to relish the words."

"What, that I want you restrain me with fur-lined leather? I knew you'd be kinky."

"No, impertinent brat: that I am always right. Say it again."

"You are absolutely right, Sir, as always," she said in a sultry voice.

"Ahhh… perfect," he sighed.

"Sir, may I ask you a favor?"

"No, Miss Granger, I will not tie you up and have sex with you this morning. You are an insatiable minx, do you know that?"

She laughed again. "No, silly, not that! I would appreciate it if you kept what you saw and heard to yourself, is all."

"Don't call me silly, Miss Granger. I have hexed people quite cruelly for far less. But of course I will not mention it to anyone. And I expect you, in return, to keep this morning's events private as well. I do not need any of my colleagues, any of your friends, or any of the Order – most particularly Black and Lupin – knowing what happened."

"It's a deal, Sir. If only we had some firewhiskey to seal our pact."

"Miss Granger, you are pushing your luck. I will not drink with you, as I fear you would try to take advantage of me."

"Well, then, I suppose I will have to try a different approach!"

"Perhaps a potion would do the trick. If you had the slightest skill in brewing potions, I might have cause for concern."

"Sir… There's one more thing I must know."

"You are intolerable. You must know everything, or you feel incomplete. What minute detail must we investigate now?"

"Sir… I smelled… I smelled your arousal earlier. Was it because of Remus? Or… or was it… was it me? I'm sorry to ask, Sir, it's just that I need to know if this really is innocent flirtation, or if there's something behind it, as we've really gotten carried away with the teasing this morning."

"Would it matter?"

"Sir?"

He stopped again, and pulled her close, holding her arms so tightly that it hurt. He looked deeply into her eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was soft and silky. "Would it matter if I was attracted to you? Would you behave any differently toward me? Would you be repulsed, or do you really feel some attraction to me?"

"I- I- I don't know, Sir! I do think it might matter, and that I might behave differently. I wouldn't want to tease so much if it might create a problem. And I don't think I would be repulsed. In the past, I would have been, but now that I know you better… You heard me tell Sirius – I am rather taken with you. You challenge me, and I value that. And, though I can't believe I'm saying it, you're… fun. In a perverse sort of way. I look forward to our time together, whether working or traveling. But I'm not sure right now that I want this to go any further than it already has."

"Then it won't." He released her.

"Are you so controlled that you can just decide such a thing, and that's all there is to it?" Their eyes were still locked together, and she thought she saw the shadow of something momentarily darken his gaze. Was it… regret? His dark eyes were so hard to read, though Hermione felt she was getting better at it. Unless… what if that flash of regret was a reflection of something in her own eyes?

"As I said, Miss Granger, the inability to control one's emotions is a Gryffindor trait, not a Slytherin one. I, too, have come to appreciate our time together, and will do nothing to jeopardize that. You need to remember that, regardless of what may have transpired this morning, at Grimmauld Place or here on this path, I am a Hogwarts professor and you are my student. You are perfectly safe in my classroom. At least… until you graduate."

"That sounds promising, Professor," she grinned, as he pushed open the gates to the Hogwarts grounds.

"I believe you will be able to join your second-period class in progress, Miss Granger. Would you like me to escort you there, and explain your tardiness to your professor?"

"Thank you, Sir. That might be helpful."

As they approached the huge oaken doors, he reached out for her hand and stopped her. "Enjoy your date with the Moon Goddess tomorrow, Miss Granger. Just remember – when you're in my dungeon again come Monday morning, you're all mine. I demand your undivided attention."

"You'll have it, Sir. I promise."

"Furthermore, Miss Granger, I expect you to act in public as though nothing has changed between us. Save your flirting for when we are alone. As far as anyone else need know, you still find me overbearing and unfair, and I find you an insufferable know-it-all blabbermouth."

"Sir, no offense, but you ARE overbearing and unfair."

"And you, Miss Granger, ARE a know-it-all blabbermouth."

"But not insufferable?"

"No," he reached out, as if to caress her cheek, but at the last moment, brushed a curl from her face, instead. "Not insufferable."

Everything seemed to freeze for a long moment – her heart, her breath, time, all stood still – as she looked into the emotion seething in his black eyes. Desire. Passion. Regret. His eyes had always seemed so cold before. The warmth must have been hiding in the shadows all this time.

She held his gaze, and silently vowed to begin studying Legilimency. "Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome, Miss Granger. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready." And together they opened the door.

Hermione marveled at how everything had changed in the past half hour, and yet Hogwarts seemed exactly the same as ever. Stepping into the Great Hall was like wrapping herself in a warm, familiar blanket. It was good to be home.

* * *

_A/N: So, obviously pushing the envelope of Snape's… Snapelihood. So many of you have said you love reading him, and I am certainly coming to love writing him. Of course, when I write him, I can make him do anything I want… That tends to make it more pleasurable. ;D I do still love my Remus, but I'm becoming strangely attracted to Snape. Perhaps my next story will have the two of them together… Hmmmm…._

_I know you won't believe me because I keep crying wolf (Oh, please, Remus, make me cry wolf!), but I do believe that the very next chapter, number 28, will be the last of this tale. I know where & how I want to end this, and I have an outline of how to manage it, and it should all fit into one chapter. I only hope I can write something worthy of closing out what has become such an epic. My darling reviewers, please let me know how you liked this chapter. (Or didn't, as the case may be – but only if you're gentle with me. Only Remus is allowed to be rough with me. Oh, and maybe Severus, though he still scares me a little.)_


	28. Chapter 28: Be My Valentine

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; therefore these characters are not mine. Of course, you'll see them doing things they definitely didn't do in her novels, so… well, those ideas are mine!

Chapter 28: Be My Valentine

* * *

_A/N: Special thanks to __**HJN**__, who offered me "50 sugar quills and a sexy date with Remus at midnight in the astronomy tower," to __**Broadwaybaby529**__ for the Rainbow sprinkle cookies, and to __**Uathann**__ for the plush Severus, Remus and Sirius._

_More special thanks to __**Felena1971**__ and __**Bmdohmen**__ for being my unofficial beta readers. Felena1971 was a crucial part of getting this thing finished: she is a creative genius, and I've really come to rely on her._

_Thanks also to __**MoonNightLover**__ for astutely observing that I'd omitted something from Chapter 26 (Remus being very relieved that the potion worked and that Hermione is alive & well). I did go back and add a few sentences to address that oversight, and the chapter is better for it._

_What would I do without you all? (shudders in horror at the thought)_

_And now…. The Final Chapter!_

* * *

"Going in to Hogsmeade tomorrow, Granger?"

Fred and George had been wreaking havoc in the common room Friday night, demonstrating more of their Wizarding Wheezes to great applause and laughter from the younger students. Fifth years, however, were swamped with OWL preparations, and the seventh years were revising for NEWTS, so Hermione felt compelled to bring the noise level down a notch. She was a Prefect, after all, and it was her job to help maintain order. She sighed deeply, put down her partially finished Potions essay, and stood, smoothing her school shirt over her hips and squaring her shoulders. Ron, ever so helpful, ducked behind a Charms textbook and pretended not to exist. She scowled as she approached the rowdy knot of Gryffindors. As soon as they spotted her, the underclassmen scattered, and she was left with Fred and George. They turned so that she had to cross around them in order to address them face to face, and she was about to start telling them about the noise-level problem, when Fred asked about her plans for the Hogsmeade weekend.

"Come on, admit it, Granger," added George. "Aren't you getting a little bored with what Hogsmeade has to offer? I'm sure the three of us could think of something far more interesting to do."

"Yes, little Ronniekins will be busy with Quidditch practice all day," noted Fred.

"And Baby Sister as well," said George.

"And Harry will be busy with Cho Chang, that dog – who knew he had it in him?" Fred gestured over his shoulder to Harry. They all turned and looked. The poor boy was pale and sweaty, as if he'd been testing the Puking Pastilles. "Well, maybe he doesn't have it in him," sighed Fred. "He might need more of our tutelage before tomorrow morning."

"But back to you, love," said George, with a hungry look in his eyes, and Hermione suddenly realized that by forcing her to walk around them earlier, they had backed her up against the wall. "We can't bear the thought of you being lonely without your usual partners in crime."

"Maybe you could use some new partners," suggested Fred. "And some new crimes, perhaps, as well. I'm pretty sure we could come up with something illegal to try. Or at the very least, immoral."

"Another generous offer, boys. But as it so happens, Harry is not the only one with a date tomorrow."

"Oi, Granger! Do tell! Are you and Lovegood hitting the town together?"

"Yes, Fred, we are," she blushed.

"You know you won't be able to finish what you started in the greenhouse if you are strolling around Hogsmeade with the masses," said George with a wink. "If I might make a suggestion…"

"It's okay, George. I have it on good authority that the dorms are usually pretty deserted on Hogsmeade weekends, should Luna and I need more privacy. We have some business in the village for part of the day, but if we finish early… And if the situation calls for it…" She was blushing furiously, now.

"Excellent plan, then," nodded Fred, approvingly. "Who gave you that information, Granger? I like the way she thinks! Might have to pay her a call sometime, if you're busy with Lovegood anyway."

Hermione laughed. "I cannot reveal my sources, boys. Now let me go finish my essay so I will be free tomorrow to make the most of my date, will you?"

"Spoilsport," muttered George, but they parted, and let her pass between them.

* * *

The next morning, the weather was cool, and the fresh scent of rain was carried on the breeze. To Hermione's mind, it was perfect. Everything was perfect, in fact. Just that morning, a post owl had brought Rita Skeeter's reply: she had agreed to meet Hermione for lunch at the Three Broomsticks. Harry had agreed to meet her there as well, so everything was set. Until noon, Hermione had Luna all to herself.

Well, almost. Colin Creevey had queued up with the girls as they waited for Filch to sign them out. "Did you know that cloudy days like today are excellent for outdoor photography?" He gestured to the camera hanging, as always, around his neck. "The diffuse light is more even, so you get softer contrasts and great detail."

"That's great Colin," said Luna. "I hope you have a lovely time taking pictures today. Do you like to photograph flowers? Birds?"

"Actually," he said in an innocent voice, but with a leer at Hermione, "I most enjoy portraiture. Would either of you girls be interested in posing for me, maybe sitting on those big rocks just outside the village? Or – I know – even better! – Why not both of you together?"

Luna looked interested, and had just opened her mouth to speak when Hermione grabbed her by the elbow and gave her a meaningful look. "No thanks, Colin," said Hermione firmly, "Luna and I have some plans today. But do enjoy yourself."

"Oi, Creevey," came Fred's voice. Colin, Luna, and Hermione turned around to find the twins standing behind them, both looking quite amused.

"Y- yes?" Colin stuttered, apparently unnerved at being addressed by the pair of tall sixth-years.

"Why don't you come with us for a bit, Colin," suggested George, kindly. "We're going to Zonko's Joke Shop and then to Honeydukes. You like candy, Colin?"

"You bet I do!" Now that it appeared the twins weren't going to try out a Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes product on him, he seemed eager to rub elbows with the upperclassmen.

Hermione mouthed a silent "Thank you!" to the twins, who winked at her in return.

"What sweet boys they are," sighed Luna.

* * *

Hermione and Luna strolled toward Hogsmeade, taking their time. Soon they were at the back of the pack of students, as most were eagerly trotting up the path, excited about their destination. Luna took Hermione's hand, and Hermione marveled at how small and soft Luna's hand was in her own.

"Where would you like to go first, Luna?" asked Hermione. "Scrivenshaft's? Honeydukes?"

"It doesn't really matter to me, Hermione. Wherever you want to go is fine. Or we could just walk."

"Walking sounds brilliant," she agreed, "unless it starts to rain."

"So how was your visit with your family? How is your grandfather faring?"

A pang shot through Hermione. She felt awful lying to all of her friends in the first place, and now she would have to compound the lie. She stopped walking, and looked into Luna's large, trusting eyes. With a deep breath, she prepared to spin a tale of hospitals, orderlies, and medicinal smells… but then blew out the breath and looked at her shoes instead. She couldn't do it.

"Luna, my grandfather is fine," she finally said.

"You must be so relieved! I'm sure your visit helped him feel stronger."

Ouch. Why did Luna have to be so magnanimous? Hermione felt even worse.

"My grandfather was never ill," she said softly, squeezing Luna's hand. "I'm sorry I said he was. It's kind of a long story, and I won't be able to tell you everything, but… I can't stand lying to you, Luna. Can we find a private place to sit and talk?"

Luna's eyes widened even further than usual at Hermione's admission, but she nodded. Hermione led her into the village and down a side street, and then into the foothills of the surrounding mountains. They found a soft hillside, protected from the breeze by a large outcropping of rock, against which they leaned their backs. The wind through the fir trees made a gentle shushing sound that helped to soothe Hermione's nerves.

"Luna, I didn't go see my grandfather, or any of my family. My grandfather was not ill. Dumbledore created that story as a cover for me." Hermione searched Luna's eyes. "Please don't be angry; I didn't want to tell you a lie, but I can't tell you the truth, either."

The silvery eyes communicated only concern, not anger. "Are you in some kind of trouble, Hermione?"

"No, no. I'm not in trouble." Relief and gratitude broke over Hermione's features. "But I do need to be careful, and there are some things I just can't talk about. I… I want to tell you what I can, but there will need to be some gaps in the story. Can you accept that?"

"Of course, Hermione. All the best stories have gaps in them."

Hermione sighed heavily. "I'm not even sure where to begin!"

"At the beginning, of course," Luna answered.

"Right," chuckled Hermione. But she quickly became more serious, now taking both of Luna's hands in her own. "We are not Dumbledore's only army, Luna. He has a secret society that is organizing forces against Voldemort. It is imperative that it remain a secret, for the safety of everyone involved. I can't tell you the names of anyone in it."

"Are you in this secret society, Hermione? You're still a student!"

"No one can join until they are of age. So, no, I'm not a member. Harry's not, either, but he's been an important source of information for them because he's the one who saw Voldemort return. I've been able to support this group in small ways, because of my friendship with Harry."

"That must be very rewarding for you, Hermione. I know you want to do all you can in the fight."

Hermione remembered the long hours spent cleaning up the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Rewarding? Not exactly. But learning to brew Remus's potion, and then getting to deliver it? Oh yeah. "You're right, Luna. I want to do all I can. And I was recently offered a new way to help, but almost no one knows anything about it. Not even Harry. Only Dumbledore, and a few other adults from the group. You see, one of the members has a… a chronic health problem, and relies on another member for his care. I was invited to be a back-up, in case something should happen to the primary caregiver. So I've been learning how to help, and this week I got to put my education to use. That's where I went Thursday night."

"I see. So that's why you needed to lie about where you were going. And why Dumbledore helped you to do it."

"Yes. Can you forgive me?"

"I can, Hermione, but if this ever happens again, instead of telling me the lie you and Dumbledore create, can you just tell me privately that it's something you can't talk about? I would understand."

"Of course, Luna. I'd rather give you truthful, but incomplete, information, instead of another lie. And I do think I may have further opportunities to help in my small way, so it could definitely happen again."

Luna smiled and leaned close to Hermione, planting a gentle kiss on her lips. "I'm so glad we talked about this," she said.

It felt so good to unburden herself. Hermione was reassured to find that Luna wanted to know the truth, but that she wouldn't ask more of her than she could give. She suddenly remembered Luna's words from their first picnic together: _You allowed yourself to be more vulnerable and genuine than you had thought possible, and your reward for taking those risks was unconditional acceptance. And you hope the same thing can happen with me._ Could Luna truly offer her unconditional acceptance? If Hermione were to tell her everything… It would certainly be a risk, but then – that's what Gryffindors do.

"Luna, there's more."

"More?"

"More that I want to tell you. And I think that I can do it without saying anything that I shouldn't. I want to tell you about my friends."

"You don't mean Harry and Ronald…." It wasn't a question.

"No. I mean the friends I told you about, from winter holiday."

Luna's face brightened. "Yes, I was hoping that's who you meant! It sounds like you had such a beautiful experience with them. I would love to hear more about anything that made you feel so passionate."

"Heh… yeah." Hermione stroked Luna's hand, wanting the physical contact while she told her tale. "So these friends of mine. I've known them for a couple of years. They're adults – men. And they're part of Dumbledore's secret group, so I can't tell you their names. But I got to spend quite a bit of time with them over the holiday, and really got a chance to know them."

"Oh! When you first told me about them, I assumed your friends were closer to our age. But I believe it's a very good thing to have friends of all ages. We can learn so much from adult friends and mentors."

"Right," Hermione agreed, though her voice shook slightly. She began to trace circles on Luna's palm with her thumb. The steady movement kept her from flying apart at the seams. "I did learn a lot from them. That's what I wanted to tell you."

"Is it this knowledge that has prepared you for your work with Dumbeldore's society?"

"Ha!" The laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "No, Luna," Hermione said, more seriously, "that's not it at all." She took another deep breath, and released it. Time to lay it all on the table, and hope that Luna doesn't get up and walk away. "It so happens, Luna, that these friends of mine have secretly been lovers for many years. I discovered them together, accidentally, and it took my breath away. I've always thought they were beautiful, and if possible, they were even more beautiful together. But it did shock me at first, to see them that way. They wanted to talk with me about what I saw, to make sure I was okay, and then…."

Luna nodded encouragingly. "Go on," she said softly, as she placed a reassuring hand on Hermione's arm, and stroked it gently.

"We began to talk about sexuality, and… somehow we came up with a plan for them teach me everything they knew. One of them had a little experience with girls when he was younger, and the other had a lot of experience with girls. And I had only the slightest experience with a boy. I had a lot to learn, and it seemed like a safe environment in which to explore. So… we set about exploring together, in secret, almost every night of the holiday."

"It sounds like the D.A., except learning secretly about sex instead of learning secretly about Defense," Luna laughed softly. "You really know how to create unusual educational opportunities, Hermione. But I bet you learned an awful lot." She curled herself up next to Hermione, snuggling into the brunette's arm.

"Well, I learned both more and less than I expected. I thought I would learn all about sex. But while I was at it, I learned a bit about love, from watching them. I mean – I love them and they love me, but not the way they love each other. It was so moving to see the passion and commitment they share, and I saw that sex without romantic love – no matter how good it is – isn't enough for me, long term. One day, I want to have what they have."

Luna looked at her with adoring eyes, and Hermione melted. "You will, Hermione," Luna said, confidently. "I know you will. So, that's how you learned more than you expected. How is it that you learned less than you expected?"

"I thought we were covering just about everything – that I was learning anything I would ever need or want to know about sex. But… I still have more to learn. I've only ever been…" Say it, Hermione, she admonished herself. Gryffindor courage, girl! "I've only ever been with men. Kissing you, touching you… it's all new to me. It's like nothing I've ever felt before." She put a finger under Luna's chin, and brought their mouths together in a slow, probing kiss.

When they broke apart, minutes later, Luna smiled. "It's all new to me, too, Hermione. But I am looking forward to exploring it with you."

"Me, too," said Hermione, but she still felt uncomfortable. "So it doesn't bother you, that I had that experience?"

"No! Why should it bother me? It didn't have anything to do with me. As long as all three of you enjoyed it and no one got hurt, I don't see a problem."

"Would it bother you to learn…" Hermione's voice was choked with anguish. "Luna, I saw them again this week. One of them is the one with the health problem I mentioned, and I saw them both Thursday night."

Luna frowned slightly, a crease between her pale eyebrows, and then asked, "And how is Professor Lupin?"

Hermione jumped away from Luna in alarm. "Luna! You frighten me sometimes! Are you able to read minds?"

"No, Hermione, please… Come back. Come sit with me again. You didn't mean to, I know, but you gave me enough clues to figure that part out on my own. Please come back to me." She patted the ground next to her.

Slowly, Hermione returned.

"Thursday was the full moon. A 'chronic health problem' that just happened to require extra care at the full moon was a bit of a giveaway, Hermione. It was rather big news when Professor Lupin was exposed as a werewolf during my second year, so I knew of his condition. You said you'd known your friends for a couple of years, and that's how long ago he was teaching at Hogwarts. Obviously, he knows Dumbledore, and as a former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he would be an ideal member for the society you described. Don't worry – I won't say anything to anybody. Oh, and I agree with you, by the way. He is beautiful."

Hermione stared at Luna for a long moment, and then she laughed quietly. "Luna, I am reminded yet again never to underestimate you. Yes. Remus – Professor Lupin – is fine. I helped him through his change this month. I don't know if I will get other opportunities or not. But Luna, I spent the night with my friends. We…"

"It's okay, Hermione. You renewed your sexual relationship with them while you were there."

"I did. It doesn't bother you?" Hermione was almost a little hurt that Luna seemed so unaffected by this news.

"It doesn't bother me. It's not as if you broke a date with me to be with them – you had legitimate business to do. I assume the sex was just a perk."

Hermione laughed, louder this time. "A perk! I love it. Luna, your perspective on things never ceases to amaze me. You're incredible."

"What's so incredible? I know that your feelings for them don't diminish the way you feel about me. It's like fire."

"The way I feel about you is like fire?" It did seem an appropriate metaphor, but it was strange to hear Luna say it.

"Well, that's not exactly what I meant. Here, let me show you." She conjured two candles from thin air, and Hermione couldn't help but be impressed by her skill. Luna used her wand to light one of the candles. The stone outcropping protected its small yellow flame. Then she held the wick of the second candle in the flame of the first, until it, too, was topped with a small flame. "When you share the fire – light one candle with another, it doesn't diminish the first flame. You can light a thousand candles from that first one, and its flame won't get any smaller. Love is like that, too. The human heart has infinite capacity for love."

Hermione watched the twin flames. She stared at them so long that when she returned her gaze to Luna, she still saw the flames before her, now dancing in Luna's eyes. "How is it, Luna, that you know so much about love?"

"I watch people, and I learn," she said, shrugging. "You've certainly observed the same phenomenon, though. For example, you're an only child, but Ronald has brothers and a sister. Is Ronald's mother's love spread more thinly because she has more children? Does she love him any less than your mother loves you?"

Hermione thought about Molly Weasley and the fierce love she had for all seven of her children – even Percy. No, she could honestly say that Mrs. Weasley's love for any one of her children was not diminished because of the others. Her eyes shone with emotion as Luna's lesson struck home. She shook her head. "No. Mrs. Weasley loves Ron as much as any mother could love her child – and the same is true for all six of his siblings."

"I know you love your friends, Hermione," Luna said, simply. "And I know that it won't prevent you from loving me." She renewed their kiss, and for several minutes there was nothing more to say. There were only lips to kiss, earlobes to suck and nibble, faces and necks to stroke, bodies to wrap in each other's arms.

_It won't prevent you from loving me._ Could Hermione find love – true love – with Luna? She had come to adore the girl's offbeat perspective, her candor, and her wisdom. The way she was at once so grounded and so prone to flights of fancy. And Hermione did love the feel of Luna in her arms, all softness and curves – so different from the hard, flat planes of Remus and Sirius, but intoxicating nonetheless, in a whole new way. When she kissed Luna like this, she could feel the girl opening herself completely, allowing Hermione to get lost in her. And now Luna knew – as much as Hermione could share with her, she had shared, and Luna had not rejected her. Hermione happily buried herself in the scent of Luna's hair, the taste of Luna's kiss, the warmth of Luna's embrace.

But eventually, Luna pulled away, her face thoughtful. "So…" she said slowly, "what's it like?"

"What's what like, Luna?" Hermione kissed her neck, impatient to get back to the snogging. Luna's lips were so soft and yielding, her body so inviting.

"Sex with men."

"I suppose it depends on the man, Luna," she replied, now toying with Luna's earlobe.

"Or men, in your case," Luna teased. "What was it like for you, with your men?"

Hermione stopped what she was doing, and looked directly into Luna's eyes, grinning widely. "It was glorious. Absolutely, without question, glorious."

Luna's silvery eyes sparkled. "I'd like to try it sometime, I think. Sex with men."

Hermione felt a sudden rush at the thought of sharing that experience with Luna. Life could not get much sweeter than this, she thought. "Luna, my darling, that's very, very interesting. I know for a fact that if we ever wanted to invite a man to join us, we would have no trouble finding willing participants. I've even had a couple of offers from interested parties. Or," and she remembered the Polyjuice Potion idea, "there are some other fascinating options open to us as well."

Luna laughed at Hermione's excitement. "Maybe a bit later down the road we could look into those options. For now, let's just focus on each other, and see where that leads us."

Hermione laughed at herself, too. "That's perfect, Luna. That's what I want to do right now, too. But I love that you are as curious and adventurous as I am."

"Yet another thing we have in common," Luna said, giggling.

"So… Luna," Hermione began, "If you haven't yet tried sex with men, and if kissing girls is as new to you as it is to me… Then you haven't…"

"That's right. There have been both witches and wizards I've admired, but aside from a couple of rather awkward kisses with boys, no… I haven't…"

"Merlin, Luna – but you seem so comfortable and confident!"

"I just know that being with you feels right, Hermione." And she snuggled closer, reaching her hands into Hermione's brown curls, and pulling her close for another deep, slow kiss.

The next time they came up for air, Hermione had to ask Luna another personal question that had begun to burn in her imagination. "Luna…," she said, hesitantly. "I think of you as such a calm, serene person. I just can't help but wonder…"

"What is it, Hermione?"

Hermione was blushing a deep rose. "I was just wondering… what it would take for you to lose that serenity. What would make you go wild? What would make you cry out in passion?" She was breathing faster just imagining Luna getting swept away and losing control.

Luna smiled coyly, as she eased herself down onto the cool grass, pulling Hermione down on top of her. "If we hadn't been interrupted in the greenhouse, I feel certain you would have found out."

"Then it does happen?" Hermione rolled off to one side, cupped Luna's breast in her hand, and kissed her way down Luna's graceful neck. "You do lose control sometimes?"

"Oh yes," Luna sighed, and Hermione wasn't sure if that was an answer to her question, or a reaction to the kissing and stroking… "I do, Hermione. But… so far, only when I'm alone."

Hermione groaned, her mind now aflame with images of Luna in a four-poster with blue hangings, back arching, head tossing, stifling her cries with her pillow, her fist, or her hair. "I would love to see you lose yourself like that," she murmured. To have you crying out my name, she thought. To be the one to take you over the edge. Hermione pushed her knee gently between Luna's thighs, and buried her face in Luna's hair.

Luna had been caressing Hermione's back, but her hand slipped lower, onto her arse. She pulled them closer, pressing their bodies together. "You… you want to watch me?" she whispered in disbelief. Her body trembled, as if a shiver had raced up her spine.

With a growl would have made Remus and Sirius proud, Hermione reached for the back of Luna's thigh, and pulled it to her, so that Luna's leg was wrapped around her waist. "No, Luna" she rumbled thickly into the younger girl's ear, "I want to help you!"

"Ohhhhh," Luna moaned, and she rolled on top of Hermione, kissing her fiercely. She gasped as Hermione's palm slid from one arse cheek to the other, and then slid forward.

Merlin, Luna was hot – literally hot. The warmth emanating from between the girl's legs was incredible. Hermione was completely aroused, and from the dampness of the thin cotton fabric under her fingertips, it appeared Luna was in a similar state. "So wet," she breathed into Luna's neck, meaning either one of them, or both, it didn't matter at all.

As if on cue, a soft rain began to fall. Then, a thunderclap, and the rainstorm broke loose.

"Damn it all to hell!" cursed Hermione loudly, as the two girls broke apart. "Let's get to the Three Broomsticks!"

They ran.

* * *

They arrived at the Three Broomsticks drenched and out of breath. But within a few minutes, they were dry again, seated side by side in a corner booth, and enjoying a drink together.

"That was crazy, Hermione," said Luna. "It was almost like you made it rain by talking about getting wet. Have you noticed that we tend to get wet together? Like at the D.A. meeting, when your Aguamenti spell went wild?"

Hermione gulped, and it had nothing to do with her cherry syrup and soda. Yes, she had definitely noticed a distinct increase in moisture whenever she got close to Luna. "It wouldn't have gone wild, except you were trying to help me up just as I was casting it!"

"I'm sorry," Luna laughed, though she didn't sound sorry at all.

"Don't be," chuckled Hermione. "I rather enjoy the way your clothing clings to your curves when you're soaked to the skin. I have to admit, I've been fantasizing about you ever since that night. And I should warn you… My fantasies have had a way of coming true lately."

"How much time do we have before Harry and Rita join us?" Luna asked the question so softly, that Hermione had to lean very close to hear her.

"Over an hour," Hermione answered, rather sad that Luna had chosen to change the topic. Perhaps she had been too forward.

"How convenient," Luna said.

Though the girls were sitting very close, their faces only a couple of inches apart, Hermione had to watch Luna's lips in order to understand the soft-spoken girl amid the din of the pub. It was rather distracting, as Hermione became lost in thoughts about those lips – so full and soft, and a delicate shade of pink, like the inside of a conch shell.

"Why is it convenient to have to wait over an hour for them, Luna?" Hermione was already thinking ahead to after the upcoming interview, and trying to figure out how best to invite Luna back to her dorm. If the gods were willing, perhaps she would yet get to feel those lips on her body that afternoon.

Luna pulled the cocktail onion out of her gillywater and sucked on it, slowly twirling the stick it was speared upon. (Oh, to be a cocktail onion…) She smiled coyly as she returned the onion to her drink, and gave the gillywater a stir. "That gives you plenty of time to tell me all about those fantasies you mentioned."

The girls' knees were touching under the table, and Hermione pushed gently with her knee – just enough to say Hello to Luna's knee. Luna smiled a very big smile, and slid her hand under the table to stroke Hermione's thigh.

The two conversed in whispers and sighs and completely lost track of the time, until a much less-polished-than-usual Rita Skeeter sat down with them and started sucking down a firewhiskey. A large movement across the room caught Hermione's attention, and she turned to see Hagrid exiting the pub, leaving a bewildered-looking Harry behind. She called him over. The interview went well, once it got started, and Hermione was enormously pleased that they had gotten an early start on it.

* * *

"Well, Harry," said Hermione brightly, after Rita had gone, "we'll leave you so you can catch up with Cho again, all right?" She was in a rush to get Luna out of the pub and back to Gryffindor tower. Harry seemed a bit off, but then, he had been acting a bit off for days. It must be that he's still nervous about spending time with Cho, she thought.

Hermione took the paper umbrella out of her drink, and grabbed Luna by the hand. Once outside, she transfigured the miniature version into a nylon umbrella big enough to shelter them both. "Luna, I hope I'm not being too forward by asking you this," she began, looking hopefully into Luna's eyes, "but would you like to come to my dorm with me for a bit? I expect Parvati and Lavender will be in Hogsmeade for the rest of the afternoon. They always come back at the last minute, with bags and bags of new things from Gladrags."

"I have noticed they are very well-dressed girls," she laughed. "Hermione, I would love to see your dormitory. Let's go!"

Though the girls had strolled slowly into the village that morning, their walk back was much more brisk – and the rain had nothing to do with it.

* * *

"Cupid's arrow."

The Fat Lady was busy eating chocolates with her friend Violet. "Happy Valentine's Day, dears," she said with a wink. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She gave Violet a huge, wet, sloppy kiss as she swung open and let the girls pass. Hermione blushed as she led the way through the portrait hole.

Luna looked around in awe at the Gryffindor common room, but Hermione hurried her past the curious first and second year students, and up the staircase to the girls' dormitories. Up they climbed, until they reached the fifth year dorm. Hermione stopped just outside the door and pulled Luna into a kiss. She reached behind her to the doorknob, and pushed open the door, backing into the room and pulling Luna with her, not breaking their kiss.

But Luna broke the kiss to gasp, and Hermione opened her eyes and looked around to see what had caused such a reaction. Her breath was taken away – the floor was covered in red rose petals. At the same moment that her eyes registered this fact, the floral scent reached her – it was an overwhelming combination, and its source was a total mystery.

"Hermione, it's beautiful," Luna breathed, her eyes shining.

"It is beautiful, Luna, and I wish I could take credit for it, but honestly, I have no idea who did this to my dorm!" She led Luna to her own four-poster, noticing for the first time that the hangings were closed – and Hermione never left her bed that way. She peeked cautiously inside and laughed. "Luna – it was Fred and George! Look!" She threw open the rich red and gold hangings to show her: the bed itself was also spread with petals, and on the pillow was a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and a sign in large red letters. "Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione and Luna," it read, and it was signed "Love, Fred and George."

"I knew I liked those boys," laughed Luna.

"Me too," said Hermione. "And didn't I tell you my fantasies have had a way of coming true? Because chocolate definitely features in some of them, and here are all the supplies we need."

"Then this must be from them, too," said Luna, indicating a gift box on the nightstand.

Hermione had been so intrigued by the mystery of the flower petals and the closed hangings that she hadn't even noticed the box. It didn't really look like Fred and George's style. The twins liked to do things in a big way – like putting flower petals all over the entire dorm. This box was too elegant, too classy: it was small and silver. A folded note card peeked out from under a black satin ribbon. Her heart pounding, Hermione opened the card, with Luna looking on curiously. "To Hermione and her Moon Goddess. Use it well."

"I'm your Moon Goddess?" Luna's eyes were wide, their color now flecked with red reflections from the décor and the rose petals that surrounded them.

"You are, my darling," whispered Hermione, brushing Luna's hair back from her face and kissing her again.

"What could it be, that we are to use well, do you think?"

"I cannot imagine," Hermione admitted, though the wording of the card made it clear that it could only be from one of two people in the world: Sirius Black or Severus Snape. She turned her attention back to the box in her hand. "Shall we find out?"

"Please," said Luna. "I'm so curious!"

Hermione pushed the bed hangings open the rest of the way, and the two girls sat cross-legged on the bed, the box between them. She pulled off the black satin ribbon, and gave it to Luna. "This would look beautiful in your hair, Luna."

Luna tied her hair back with the ribbon, and Hermione lifted the lid of the box.

She reached inside and unfolded the tissue wrapped around the gift – and she burst out laughing so hard that she fell over sideways into the rose petals on her duvet.

"Hermione?" Luna looked slightly alarmed. "Is this another part of your fantasies coming true? You didn't mention anything about black leather fur-lined handcuffs!"

Hermione gasped and tried to recover. She gave Luna's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe down the road a ways, eh? Not for our first time, I promise."

"What a strange thing for Fred and George to have given us! It doesn't really fit with the chocolates and roses, does it?"

"This gift is not from the twins, Luna. We apparently have several people wishing us well on Valentine's Day."

"Do you know who it's from? The note wasn't signed, was it?"

"No, it wasn't. But I do know who gave us this gift. And remember when I said there would be some things I just wouldn't be able to tell you? This is one of those things. Suffice it to say that I told a few very close friends that I had a date with you today, and how excited I was at being able to spend Valentine's Day with you. This is from one of my friends who has a bit of a darker sense of humor, but who means well."

"You have good friends, Hermione. It's sweet that they care so much for you that they went to this kind of trouble."

So Severus wanted her to enjoy herself with her Moon Goddess, did he? He couldn't have… Well, he could have, but he wouldn't have… Would he? Hermione looked carefully around the room. Was Severus here, in the dormitory, disillusioned, evanescaroma'd, and silencio'd again? It seemed possible, but unlikely.

"Is something the matter, Hermione? Are you looking for something?"

She shook her head, and brought her attention back to the gorgeous blonde witch on her bed. "No, Luna darling, nothing is wrong. But if you don't mind, I'd like to get rid of some of these rose petals. I think the scent is making me light-headed."

Together, they vanished most of the petals, leaving just a scattering of them on the bed itself. Then Hermione, with one last glance around the room, closed the hangings around them, and gently pressed Luna backwards onto the bed. She opened the box of chocolates and fed a piece to Luna, who sighed in appreciation of the delicious treat, and anticipation of the pleasures to come. When Hermione kissed Luna, the taste of chocolate on her tongue was rich and decadent. Before long, their clothes had been dumped in an unceremonious heap beside the bed, and Hermione began to worship Luna's body like the Moon Goddess she was.

She smiled to herself as she remembered her sleepless nights with Sirius and Remus, and everything they had taught her, about sex, and about love. Merely two months ago, she had been almost as inexperienced as Luna was now – and their enthusiastic tutelage had brought her so much joy and pleasure. She couldn't wait to share that journey of discovery with Luna. As she reverently stroked and kissed her, Luna's vocal responses gave Hermione confidence that she would be able to take Luna outside of herself, lift her to the plane of ecstasy she had experienced at the hands of her generous lovers. She was grateful for the knowledge she had gained with them, and firm in the knowledge that she was ready now to explore anew with the lovely girl in her arms. The territory was unknown, not just because it was her first time with a new lover, nor even because it was her first time making love to another girl – but because, for the first time, Hermione sensed the potential for love. What would happen in the future, Hermione could not foretell – Divination never having been her strong suit – but Luna's words echoed in her mind: _I like you, you like me: that's what's important. Everything else is just details, and the details will sort themselves out if we follow our hearts._ Once again, Hermione had the sensation of Luna opening up to her, and Hermione followed her heart right in.

* * *

_A/N: This is the end! (hears Doors lyrics echoing spookily in head) (But then, most of you are too young to know that song, aren't you?)_

_I'm sorry this chapter took so long! As a straight (but not narrow) girl, I suffered a bit of writer's block with the femmeslash parts. Purely in the name of literary research, of course, I rented and watched two fun movies that gave new meaning (to me) to the term "chick flick"! "Kissing Jessica Stein" was fun and funny, but only moderately hot. "Loving Annabelle" was moving, well-acted, and VERY hot, but I do recommend if you watch it that you go to the special features for the alternate ending – much happier that way. Just as I sat down to watch "Loving Annabelle," the doorbell rang and it was two Jehovah's Witnesses ladies trying to save my soul. If only they'd known what I was watching, I probably wouldn't have been able to send them on their merry way nearly so quickly! ("I may be goin' to hell in a bucket, baby, but at least I'm enjoyin' the ride!" Oh sorry – every now and then I break into Grateful Dead lyrics…)_

_I do know that Hermione/Luna is not a comfortable ship for many of you (though some of you seem to love it!), but it seemed like the right place to leave things. Hermione seems to be in good hands for right now (heh heh)… and has many options still open to her for the future. However, this particular journey has reached its end. _

_Do let me know what you thought - it was quite difficult to conclude this thing. I know there are still some loose ends, but that seems to me to be sort of… appropriate. There's always another story. I may write up some stories about those future options, but they will be just that – other stories. _

_p.s. By the way, you guys seem to really love the Snape. Last chapter got more reviews than my first 6 chapters combined! I think I'll be writing a more Snapified story soon (maybe next). If you want to be sure to check it out, tag me with an Author Alert so you'll get an email when I put something else up._

_p.p.s. Added in early April 2008: I am thrilled beyond belief to let you know that this story was nominated for a few Quill to Parchment awards (best multiple partner, best mid-length fic, and best Trio era) and my one-shot "HBM" has also been nominated in several categories (best male slash, best humor fic, best one-shot, and best Marauder era). If you liked this one, please go to awards (dot) quilltoparchment (dot) come and click on "Vote" to case your vote! Thanks for your support!_


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